Ghost Buster
by CanadianGhost13
Summary: now what? Buster couldn't hide behind the false innocence written on Danny's face or the lies his smiling eyes told him. He couldn't pass the whispering that followed the boy around as mere rumors. He had seen a side of his life he had never wanted to know. Could he just stay quiet? Buster was never good at keeping secrets. **Crossover with Arthur, can read as an OC**
1. Chapter 1: Prologue- Elwood City

Author's note: This is the only chapter set in Elwood city (Arthur's city), the rest of the story is completely in Danny phantom universe.

* * *

Rolling onto his side, Buster lazily opened his eyes and took in the bright sunlight streaming out of the window. Realizing that it was already day time, he yawned then sat up from his sleeping bag and glanced over to the bed, instantly noting the absence of his best friend. Buster turned to glare at the alarm clock behind him and grumbled, Arthur had 'forgotten' to wake him up like he had asked him to. Again.

He stretched while rubbing his eyes and sat there for a few moments, blankly staring ahead, before finally heading over to the washroom. He couldn't really blame Arthur for not listening to him, Buster knew he was just trying to be a good friend.

Arthur had found out about the nightmares a while ago, Buster didn't even have to tell him. He had to admit, last night had been rough and he was thankful that he had finally fallen asleep let alone been able to sleep through a few hours. At the thought of his considerate friend, he smiled at himself in the mirror before it quickly faltered. He turned his eyes away and began brushing his teeth. Slowly, he glanced back into the mirror and silently stared at his reflection.

The few moments alone when he allowed his brave mask to crack, Buster could see how much he had really changed over the months. He hated it.

Arthur was the only one who truly noticed.

Today was the day, he was finally going to break the news. He should have done it days ago, but he couldn't muster up the courage. He closed his eyes and took in a few deep breaths, "Come on Buster. You can do this, he'll understand," he whispered under his breath and tried, but failed, to give himself a reassuring smile.

He finished up and headed downstairs while still in his pajamas. It was summer, he didn't have to worry about getting dressed just yet. The house seemed pretty empty, 'well it is 1 pm' he thought to himself. Everyone was probably busy and out of the house. He didn't mind, he practically lived here and knew where everything was.

He opened the fridge and began preparing a breakfast only Buster Baxter would be able to stomach. He cleared his mind in the process and let himself go while he devoured the monstrosity that he created. While in the process of chasing down his meal with orange juice he heard the back door creak open.

"Hey Bumpster, Arthur's in the backyard if you're looking for him. I think he's waiting for you," DW hurriedly stated as she raced past him to do who knows what.

"Thanks PW!" He called after her and shook his head while chuckling.

DW had mellowed out her obnoxious personality over the years but she still insisted on the ridiculous nicknames. She was much craftier with her array of butchered names for him than he was for her though. He had gotten pretty used to it by now and realized that he was actually going to miss her antics. His mood from earlier came crashing back at the thought, he frowned and stared at his empty dishes. He let out a deep sigh, "I can't keep sulking all day," he finally stated and got up to clear his plate before heading upstairs to get dressed.

* * *

Buster stood in the doorway watching Arthur who was currently rolling around in the grass, laughing, with Pal. A few moments later Pal noticed him, yelped and came running. Arthur glanced up while dusting off his clothes and jogged over. "Hey buddy, I've been waiting for you."

Buster wrinkled his nose, "You wouldn't have had to if you woke me up in the morning like I asked," he grumbled while crossing his arms, despite not being angry.

"I uh…I heard you get up a few times last night and figured you needed the rest" Arthur guiltily replied and looked to his feet which caused Buster to let out a small chuckle.

Buster crouched down to pet the impatient dog before looking back up and mumbling a soft but earnest "Thanks."

Arthur smiled and sat down on the ground beside him, "So what do you wanna do today?"

Buster frowned slightly, he closed his eyes and attempted to summon up the courage, he wasn't going to back down today. The more he put it off, the more it would hurt. "I…um, I actually wanted to talk to you about something. It's really important," he said while looking at his friend's face, so far so good.

"Okay, what do you wanna talk about?" Arthur asked distractedly while throwing Pal's ball.

"Um not here, could we go to the Treehouse?" He replied in barely a whisper.

This caught Arthur's attention, they hardly used that old place anymore.

They still loved it, it meant a lot to them, but they had grown out of it and only found themselves perched up in the tree a handful of times over the years. Arthur knew there was something wrong if Buster wanted to go back there, Buster could see the realization in his eyes, yet he didn't say anything. Simply nodding instead.

* * *

Pulling himself up the last step Buster broke out into a coughing fit, a thick layer of dirt covered the insides of the wooden structure. Arthur helped him up and patted his back as he calmed down. "Gee, we really let this place go, haven't we?" he said between coughs.

Arthur laughed as they crawled over and sat down, "I wonder if my Halloween candy is still here," he said as he pried open the hidden compartment. Sure enough there was an old dusty bag of candy still waiting for them, they glanced at each other before grinning and diving in. They giggled like school girls at how bad it tasted, it was probably more than four years old.

Buster looked in the compartment and noticed a pile of old books, mostly consisting of Bionic Bunny comics. He pulled one out and flipped through it while laughing at how ridiculous it all was. Arthur pulled out a booklet of stapled white paper from the bottom of the pile and Buster instantly recognized it as the book they had written together. Arthur lay down on his belly as he excitedly flipped open the pages and began reading the adventure book aloud between fits of laughter.

In the moment Buster let himself forget about why he was really up there and just hung out with his best friend as if they were in third grade again. It was glorious, and he wished it would never end.

They stalled the inevitable conversation for hours while reminiscing about the adventures they had up in the old tree before Arthur finally lost his patience and asked. "So why did you really want to come up here?" While he said it, Buster could see the saddened look in Arthur's eyes as if he already knew what was coming.

There was no good or easy way to break it to him so, in a sudden burst of bravery, Buster let the ball drop in one go, "I'm moving."

He didn't know exactly what he expected from Arthur, but he thought he would at least get a reaction. Instead Arthur just sat there as if he hadn't heard him, it felt like hours before their eyes met.

"When are you leaving?" he finally asked, to the untrained eye he looked composed. But Buster could see the unshed tears and hear the inaudible crack in his voice.

"In three days, my dad thought it would be best if I got there a week before school starts so I could settle in," he explained sadly. He looked up and could see that Arthur wanted to ask more, but was finding it hard to form words so Buster took the initiative.

"Dad told me last week before he dropped me off at your place, he has a brother I've never met who lives across the country in a town called Amity Park. He's pretty well off and settled down with a family. He has a son, my cousin, who's a bit older than us I think. My uncle heard about what happened and offered to help, and since my dad can't really come take care of me full time, and I can't skip high school to travel the world, he agreed to let me live with them." He waited a couple of minutes to let the words sink in before he looked up to search his friend's face for a reaction.

"You could always keep staying with us you know," he said quietly but Buster could see that, despite his weak protest, he understood.

"I know, but the floor is kinda getting to me, and you snore," he tried to joke and was successful in eliciting a small smile from the other boy.

"How am I going to start ninth grade without you?"

Buster sighed while wiping his moist eyes, "The same way I am without you."

They sat there in silence for a while until Buster commented, "You're taking this way better than last time. What? No offering to dig me a pit? Who knows, I may accept."

Arthur laughed and shook his head, "I think you need this Buster, as much as it hurts, I know you need to move on. You can't do that if you stay here." He squeezed his shoulder then repeated what he told him the last time they were in a similar situation, "Sue Ellen says going somewhere new is tough, so it's okay if you're scared."

Buster smiled at the memory, "thanks."

He looked up through the doorway and took in the view of his beloved city before he decided to play along, "I bet I can never find another treehouse that can fly into outer space, go back in time or go invisible like this one."

Arthur giggled despite himself, "It will always be here when you come to visit."

Buster faltered at the deviation from the script. He wasn't going to be coming back for good like last time, and it finally hit him like a pile of bricks.

Even though they were fourteen year old boys, Buster scooted over and captured his friend in a bone crushing hug which Arthur returned without a second thought. He would never find a better friend anywhere in the world, Arthur was one of a kind and he couldn't believe that he was leaving him.

Deep down, he knew they would always remain friends, distance couldn't break them. He wiped away a stray tear as he pulled back and asked, "wanna come with me while I say goodbye and stuff?"


	2. Chapter 2: Amity Park

The remote clanked loudly against the glass coffee table as Buster tossed it down from the couch that he had been occupying all day.

He had been channel surfing to avoid the boredom of being left alone in the large house he now called home, but finally gave up. Over 200 channels and there was still nothing worth watching. He ran his fingers through his blonde hair as he leaned back into the plush cushions, deciding to take a nap instead.

Just as he was about to drift off, the front door swung open and in barged his cousin, Dash Baxter, along with his best friend. "Hey dude, me and Kwan were just gonna go kick the soccer ball around in the yard before dinner. You wanna come with?" Dash asked him as he absently searched the hall closet for the ball.

Buster grimaced at the offer, he was never good at sports, but kicking the ball around didn't really require skills. He was about to agree when Dash emerged with the ball, "Come on man, don't waste the last day of summer on the couch."

He smiled at the mock pleading expression on the guy's face, "yeah you're right. Let's go" he said as he hopped off the couch only to be rewarded by obnoxious cheering and a hard slap on the back by Kwan. Buster tried to keep his balance but failed miserably and landed on the ground, muttering to himself he rose to his feet and followed the rowdy sixteen year-olds out the back door.

He had to admit, it was pretty fun hanging out with Dash. The guy was as strange as they get but he was interesting to say the least. Not once since Buster had moved in with his family had Dash treated him with the pity Buster had recently gotten so used to receiving from most people.

It was a nice change.

Before Buster had arrived, he had been worried that his cousin would resent a new kid taking over the house, but he was pleasantly surprised that the boy was actually excited to meet him. He guessed Dash hated being an only child as much as he did.

The cousins discovered pretty quickly that they didn't have much in common, Dash was a bulky jock while Buster was the gullible class clown. However, Dash thought his jokes were hilarious and was impressed with the amount of food he could eat and Buster thought his baseball card and action figure collection was amazing.

Dash had helped him set up his new food cabinet in the guest room that was now Buster's room and didn't even get grossed out by the moldy croissant. They had spent his first night staying up playing video games, Buster actually won half the time. Buster even watched a few of Dash's favourite romance movies and had to admit that they were touching.

The change in environment had been good for him and sometimes, Buster felt like his old self again.

A loud crash followed by an 'umph' brought Buster out of his thoughts only to witness Dash and Kwan sprawled out on the ground laughing while rubbing their heads as the ball rolled away. Realizing what happened, Buster joined in on the laughter and watched the two friends help each other up.

Buster looked down and slightly frowned at the scene, he couldn't help but be reminded of playing soccer with his own friends in Lakewood. He had, on many occasions, ended up on the ground rubbing his head when they were up against Mighty Mountain, right next to Arthur in a similar predicament.

He missed everyone in Elwood city, but leaving Arthur and his family had been nothing less than torture. DW would never admit it, but Buster knew she was holding back tears. Mr. and Mrs. Read, Arthur and Kate didn't bother holding back and neither did Buster. Even Pal seemed to be crying in his own dog way. They promised to write, email, text or call everyday but it wasn't the same as seeing them in person.

Buster looked at his watch and sighed, Arthur would still be asleep for a few hours so he couldn't call him until after dinner. He shook his head to free himself of the depressing thoughts and turned his attention to the ball that was flying towards him and quickly moved aside to avoid getting knocked out.

"Look out dude, you're acting kinda spacey," Kwan called out in his version of an apology. Buster narrowed his eyes but jogged over to where the ball landed then kicked it back towards them.

They played for hours and didn't notice the sun was about to set until his Aunt called them in to eat. Buster's stomach gave a large growl in response causing the three boys to laugh, Dash bent down and picked up the ball then slung his arm around Buster's shoulders while still laughing as they walked over to the door.

"You ready for your first day at Casper tomorrow?" He asked, "remember, if anyone is giving you trouble don't hesitate to let them know you're a Baxter."

Buster guessed Dash was pretty popular at their school by the way he regularly boasted but Buster wasn't really interested in sharing that popularity so he ignored the second part of the statement, "I'm kind of nervous actually, I always thought I'd have my friends around in high school but now I have to deal with making new ones."

Dash nodded at this and Kwan took the opportunity to reply, "Don't sweat it man, you're a funny kid. I'm sure you'll make tonnes of friends!"

Buster shot him a nervous grin, "thanks Kwan," he replied before receiving another powerful pat on the back. Thankfully Buster was able keep himself on his feet, the boys chuckled at his expression and raced off to wash up and get ready for dinner.

* * *

Popping the last button into its hole on his pink pajama shirt, Danny Fenton was finally ready for bed. He hummed happily to himself as he climbed under the cozy blankets, looking forward to a good night's sleep before his first day of year-long torture tomorrow. He let his head fall in a soft thud and instantly shut his eyes, he was exhausted.

Technus had kept him busy for the last few days with a grand evil scheme, but luckily Danny was able to intervene.

It was a strange underground plot. The citizens weren't even aware that they had been under a state of attack and Amity Park was able to enjoy their last few days of summer in peace. Danny and his friends being the exception.

Danny had given up on trying to have a vacation a long time ago anyway, but he still cherished the few hours of sleep he could find.

Just as Danny was entering dream world, he was rudely interrupted by a sudden burst of cold air rushing through his lungs and past his lips. His eyes shot open and he furrowed his thick eyebrows, "oh great, can't a guy sleep for five minutes?" he muttered as he intangibly slipped through the covers and jumped out the window before transforming in mid-air.

He smiled slightly at the rush he felt from the small stunt while he whipped his head from side to side in search of the offender. He spotted Skulker not too far off, heading towards the mall. "He's probably running errands for ol' Vladdy again," he commented as he picked up the speed towards the large metal ghost.

Before he could land a surprise punch, Skulker spoke without turning around, "I'm not here to hunt you tonight Whelp, so you can go back to sleep."

Danny scoffed, "As if I would listen to you, you hunk of junk" he barked as he sent an ecto-blast towards his adversary. The ghost grinned and flew out of the way before returning the attack with mini rockets.

They glided through the air, releasing several attacks all over town for about twenty minutes before Danny finally blew off Skulker's metal head. In a flash of bright light, he captured him in the Fenton thermos.

Danny sighed and wiped his forehead with the back of his arm as he slowly floated up onto the roof of the building behind him. He let his legs appear and folded them so he was sitting cross-legged. He still had time left to get in some sleep since Skulker wasn't much of a challenge, but he didn't feel like heading back just yet.

The night was quiet and the stars were beautiful, he felt like enjoying the moment.

He sat in the silence for a few moments before the front door of the house across from him swung open. Even though Amity was used to the presence of Phantom, Danny quickly turned invisible to observe the intruder.

A boy a bit younger than Danny ran out the door and stopped on the side walk, looking frantically around as if searching for something. Danny had never seen the boy before. Granted, Danny did not know everyone who lived in the town, he had still become pretty good with faces over the years of saving the citizens.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion when he realized that it was Dash's house that the kid had run out of, he was fairly certain that Dash did not have any siblings though. Danny silently watched the mysterious kid as he desperately searched around for something.

For a moment it felt like they locked gazes but Danny was still invisible.

The boy scratched his head and slumped his shoulders before slowly walking back into the house. Danny waited a few more minutes longer, watching as the door slammed shut. Reappearing, confusion painted on his face, he shot up at an unnecessarily fast speed across the sky.

Danny was still wondering about Dash's new guest as he let go of his ghost form from above his bed and promptly fell into place. The kid looked scared, but it wouldn't have made sense for him to run towards the ghost fight if it was the ghosts that he was afraid of.

Danny sighed, it didn't really matter what the kid was doing, it wasn't like he was dangerous or something and it was getting late. He turned on his side, letting his eyelids slide over his now blue eyes and finally fell asleep.

* * *

Earlier

With his knees brought up against his chest, Buster sat on his bed staring out of the window. He had just woken up from a nightmare and didn't feel like going back to sleep. He couldn't really sleep even if he wanted to since he could hear Dash snoring from across the hall with both their doors shut…he was much worse than Arthur.

He reached over and gabbed a box of cookies he had on the side table and began munching on them as he watched the skyline. He would be exhausted in the morning as he had to get out of bed at 7 am. It wouldn't really help with first impressions, especially with the teachers, but there wasn't much Buster could do about that.

He stuffed the last cookie into his mouth and leaned onto the head board, he was about to close his eyes before something in the sky caught his attention.

It was small but was rapidly growing with random occasional flashes of light. Buster's eyes widened with shock and got wider the longer he stared at the speck. Suddenly it split into two spots in the sky.

A large flash of green light emerged from the smaller speck and at that Buster jumped out of bed and grabbed his phone. Hitting Arthur's number on speed dial he yelled to his friend without so much as a hello, "Arthur, ALIENS!"

His friend's confused voice came through the phone in reply, "Buster? What—"

Before he could speak the alarmed Buster continued screaming, "there are two UFO's outside my window right now, Arthur I have proof! I told you it was Aliens!" Buster ran up toward the window to get a closer look, but he couldn't see them anymore.

"Buster calm down, you were just dreaming again. There are no such thing as aliens," Arthur said in soothing voice that only caused him to become more anxious.

"I wasn't even asleep, I was staring straight at them for a whole minute. There was a huge flash of green light!" He protested loudly not even caring that there were three other people in the house sleeping.

"Do you see them now?" Arthur asked.

"No" he replied as he headed back toward his bed and sat down on the ground, leaning up against the side.

"It was just another dream, take a few breaths and go back to bed," his friend advised. Buster closed his eyes in frustration, he was sure it wasn't a dream. He wasn't even asleep for crying out loud!

"Arthur, I'm telling you I know what I saw! I've been telling you for months, the aliens are here and I have proof! Arthur, my mom…"

Before he could finish the thought he was interrupted, "no, Buster you are supposed to be moving on! You can't go down that road again, please just calm down."

Buster was about to continue protesting when a bright flash of blue light filled the room, catching him off guard. He shot back up onto his feet and towards the window.

"Buster? Are you there?" Arthur's voice came from the phone that he had dropped on the floor.

He looked around the sky but saw nothing that could have caused the intense flash, he picked up the phone "Uh yeah, sorry for the scare Arthur. I'll just go back to bed now," he told his friend as he continued to stare out the large window.

"Okay, call me when you wake up alright?" Arthur said in a concerned voice.

"Sure," he distractedly agreed before hanging up.

Throwing his phone onto the bed, he ran down the stairs and straight out the front door. He didn't stop running until he got to the sidewalk and frantically looked around for the UFOs.

The sky was as quiet as could be, if he hadn't seen the light for himself he would have thought it was the most peaceful and beautiful night of the summer.

His eyes landed on the rooftop of the building across from the house and for a millisecond he thought he saw something glow, a shiver ran through his spine despite it being a warm summer night. He was utterly confused, he was positive he hadn't imagined the aliens. He couldn't have, he wasn't delusional!

Although his sanity was debatable among his friends, he was pretty sure he couldn't have imagined such a vivid image. Buster scratched his head and slumped his shoulders in defeat, maybe it was all finally catching up to him. Arthur was right, he had to let go.

With a dejected sigh Buster turned around and walked back into the house.

He went straight back to the window and stared at the bright moon, he was about to turn around and attempt to sleep when he noticed something moving.

Up in the sky was a streak of something glowing flying across the sky. Buster stood there, stock still, as he watched the UFO disappear into the darkness. He continued to stare at the spot for a long time until he finally shook himself out of the shock. He slowly climbed back in bed and lay down, eyes still wide open.

Buster wasn't going to get any sleep tonight.


	3. Chapter 3: Aliens

When Buster sat down at the table for breakfast Dash looked up and smiled, "Did you sleep well buddy?" He asked cheerily and returned to his cereal.

Buster shot him a death glare that went unnoticed, "yeah as well as I could with you snoring all night," he replied. Although Dash wasn't the source of his unrest Buster felt like dumping some of his frustration from last night onto the boy so he made sure to lace his tone with animosity. However Dash seemed as clueless as ever to Buster's bad mood and continued to chatter on. As Buster downed some breakfast and tuned out his cousin's ranting his mood slightly lifted and he began wondering what his first day would be like.

They finished getting ready and Dash offered to drive them both so he climbed into the passenger seat and waited for the school to come into view as he stared out the window. The car ride was rather quiet until Buster couldn't take it anymore, "Hey Dash?"

The boy glanced over and grunted in reply, indicating that he should continue, "Do you believe in aliens?"

Buster expected Dash to laugh at the question because it was how people around him had responded all his life, however Dash furrowed his eyebrows and bit his lip in deep thought. "Well I didn't always, but when you live in a place like Amity you better learn to believe in the unbelievable," he finally replied as he pulled into the parking lot of the school.

Buster wanted to ask what Dash had meant but the boy had already gotten out of the car before Buster had the chance. He opened up his own door and slammed it shut before jogging up beside his cousin. He was about to ask but was interrupted by a large guy tackling Dash onto the grass and a series of other similarly built guys joining in after a shout of "Dog pile!" Buster slowly backed away to safety from the group of boys that he assumed was the rest of the football team.

Finally Dash freed himself and came over to where Buster was awkwardly standing by a tree, "Dude, do you need help finding your way around or are you good?" he asked.

Buster could tell that Dash didn't really feel like playing tour guide by the way he kept turning and waving to random people. "I think I'll manage, you can go ahead," he said as he flashed him a smile. Dash smiled back, waved and ran away.

Once his cousin had disappeared into the crowd, Buster nervously made his way to the front doors while taking deep breaths. He didn't want to have an asthma attack from the growing anxiety and stress. He looked down at the schedule he received a few days ago when he first registered and found his way over to his assigned locker. He dumped a few things in before looking for his first class.

It took a while, after asking three different people he finally made his way to his first period class. The students were scattered around the room and the teacher wasn't there yet so he walked in and sat in the middle row. A few people looked at him so he smiled and waved, but they didn't wave back. Buster frowned and looked down at his desk, this was going to be harder than he thought.

Before he knew it, the bell rang and the teacher, Mr. Lancer, walked in and started to call out attendance. Mr. Lancer raised an eyebrow when he came to him, "Mr. Baxter? Any relation to Dash Baxter?"

"Uh, he's my cousin sir," Buster answered. This caused a rumble of murmurs to erupt in the room and Buster slinked lower in his seat. Sure it would be nice to be as popular as Dash, but he preferred to stay out of the limelight. All the stares where making him uncomfortable.

As the day continued on, Buster made absolutely no progress in the friend department. He had even cracked a few of his best jokes but was unsuccessful. He slowly walked to his locker to switch a few books before lunch. He dropped his bag on the ground and twisted the lock to pry the door open. Once he was done, he shut the door only to be met with the devilish looking face of a brown haired boy in a familiar Letterman jacket. "Um, can I help you with something?" He asked innocently as he stared at the boy.

"Oh I was just wondering if you have gotten well acquainted with your locker?" the guy replied as he smirked, "If not, I have a method that works wonders." Before Buster could decline the 'offer' he found himself being lifted off the ground and almost getting shoved inside the small metal compartment.

"Hey! Put him down Luke!" Dash screamed from the end of the hall. He stomped angrily over and grabbed Buster right out of the offender's hands and placed him down on his feet. "You messed with the wrong kid," Dash said in a steely voice through clenched teeth. You could count every vein popping out of his neck and his eyes bulged out of his head. Buster had never seen this side of Dash and it was frightening.

Luke tried to defend himself, but Dash was much stronger. He pulled back a mighty fist and it connected straight with Luke's left eye and knocked him off his feet. "Let that be a lesson for the rest of you, NO ONE touches a Baxter," the boy growled at the crowd, slung his arms around Buster's shoulder and steered him towards the cafeteria.

* * *

Rounding the corner towards his locker, Danny came face to face with a large crowd. He rolled his eyes, 'seriously, a fight on the first day of school?' he thought. However, Danny thought it would be best to make sure it wasn't something serious so he tried to make his way through the crowd to get a better look. Before he made much progress, the crowd split to allow someone from the center to pass through.

Danny wasn't really surprised to see that it was Dash who marched out. The boy was notorious for starting fights, especially with Danny. What surprised him was the boy on the ground who had been at the other end of the fight. 'Since when did Dash beat up football players?'

When Danny turned back to examine Dash for any sign of ghostly possession he noticed a frightened boy hidden under Dash's arm. Danny had almost missed him, he narrowed his eyes and realized it was the mystery boy from last night. He reached over to rub the back of his neck in confusion, as he watched to two disappear. Since when did Dash get a brother?

He took a few steps back before turning around to head for his locker when he slammed into someone. "Umph, hey watch it Danny!" the victim of his clumsiness said from the ground.

Danny chuckled and mumbled an apology while helping his friend off the ground, "Sorry Tuck, I didn't see you there."

"Hey guys," a bored voice came from behind them as they got Tucker to his feet.

"Hey Sam," they both chimed in unison without needed to look to see who it was. The three headed towards Danny's locker while catching up on each other's day as he phased his hand through to grab a few books.

"So what was up with the crowd?" Tucker asked casually leaning up against a neighbouring locker.

"Dash was in a fight with Luke," Danny replied shooting his friends a puzzled look, "since when does Dash have a brother?"

"Dash doesn't have any siblings," Tucker said confidently.

"But he does have a cousin who moved here last week," Sam matter-of-factly added while smirking.

Danny looked at her with a raised eyebrow wondering how she knew. "I guess that makes sense, I think Luke was trying to pick on his cousin," he supplied as they walked away from the lockers and towards the cafeteria.

Sam nodded, "well now everyone will know not to even look at him the wrong way," she added while rolling her eyes, "perks of being a Baxter."

"Great, that's exactly what Casper needed. A Baxter reigning the halls for four more years." Tucker grumbled as he looked to see the kid slumped uncomfortably in his seat at the A-list table.

"Come on guys, look at him," Danny said while plopping down onto the hard bench, "he looks harmless."

Giving him a sideways glance while unwrapping her homemade sandwich, "looks can be deceiving, a few days with the A-listers and his true colours will shine through," Sam quipped, annoyed by Danny's innocent views on the shallow nature of the popular crowd.

"Blood is blood dude," Tucker added almost unintelligibly through a mouthful of food.

Danny rolled his eyes at his opinionated friends and spared a glance towards the new Baxter, there was something about the boy that made Danny feel like there was more to him than being a selfish jock. Maybe it was the look in his eyes that Danny had witnessed the night before, but for one reason or another he didn't feel like mentioning the encounter to his friends. It seemed too private, the boy had seemed so afraid.

"Well, speaking from experience, even clones have their fair share of differences," he retorted, only receiving exasperated sighs in response. At that, they finally dropped the topic and began discussing other matters. They carelessly laughed and argued, feeling relaxed in each other's company, until a familiar mist interrupted their conversation.

Before Danny even had the chance to groan in response, an enormous green creature emerged from the floor of the cafeteria followed by panicked shrieks as students scattered away and hid under the tables. "Guys get under the table, it's not a high level ghost. I can handle it myself," Danny whispered to his friends hurriedly before sneaking out of the room unnoticed. Even if the ghost wouldn't be a threat to Danny it didn't mean it wasn't a threat to the large body of students it was currently holding hostage, He had to act fast.

Doing a quick sweep of his surroundings Danny allowed the white rings to envelope his body to reveal his alter ego. Not wasting anytime, Phantom raised his arms and flew up and back into the cafeteria. He charged his fists with powerful green energy as he ran his eyes over the room to evaluate the student's locations so he could ensure they would not be caught in the crossfire.

Danny turned to his destructive opponent and stopped dead in his tracks, the energy in his hand fizzled as he momentarily allowed the sudden fear to take over him. His eyes locked on the creature's claws, dangling by one foot was a student. As quick as the uncertainty had found its way to Danny's demeanor, it was replaced by a confident and determined look in his eyes as he bolted towards the creature.

Allowing the energy to rebuild midflight, Danny blasted the ground beside the creature to capture its attention all while keeping his eyes trained on the flailing victim within its clutches. The creature was tossing the boy around as if he were a rag, it was dangerous. The boy could snap his neck, Danny had to get him free. "Hey! Tall, dark and slimy. Pick on someone your own size," he shouted.

The creature stopped its erratic movements and fixated on Danny's floating form before slightly leaning back and releasing an enormous glob a green slime from its mouth. Danny was about turn intangible to avoid being slimed but realized that the students behind him wouldn't appreciate the act. Quickly changing tactics, Danny filled his lungs with air and blew out an icy breath, encrusting the slime-glob. Taking the opportunity of the distracted creature that was watching the glob shatter on the floor, Danny blasted it in the gut. It roared in shock and pain then lifted its arms to clutch the hurt area but not before flinging the boy out of its grasp.

Acting quickly, Danny shot out towards the boy to intercept his fall and simultaneously released a powerful icy blast to coat and immobilize the creature. Grasping the kid with one arm, he swiftly collected the ice-covered ghost with his thermos. With the threat gone, Danny turned his head to meet two familiar eyes staring at him in silent panic. The boy in his arms was no other than Dash's mysterious cousin looking at him with the same fear in his hazel eyes from the night before. Feeling uncomfortable under the gaze, Danny swept the room for the A-listers and spotted Dash crawling out from under a table.

"Buster!" he yelled with genuine worry lacing his broad features. Danny adjusted his grip on the boy and flew over to Dash, he gently placed him on his feet then turned invisible and flew out before anyone could acknowledge him.

* * *

The ride back home was torture, Dash hadn't said a word since the incident in the cafeteria. Buster was still pretty confused about what went down and he really wanted to release the string of questions buzzing around in his head but instead he crossed his arms and stared out the window. He knew what he did was stupid, running towards the aliens is never a good idea, but he needed to talk to it. It was important. He didn't care if they scared him half to death, he needed information and this was the closest he has every gotten to an alien in its true form before.

Buster bit his lip as he wondered why no one else reacted as he expected, they just got down under the tables as if it were a lockdown, as if they had done it a thousand times before during a drill. Maybe it had something to do with Dash's strange statement from the morning.

Then there was the white haired alien that had saved him. He almost seemed human if you looked close enough, but the glowing and flying gave away his alien status. Still, he had saved a human from another of his own kind. Why?

Buster was confused and frustrated, his hands were curled into tight fists. He needed answers.

He let out a sigh and focused his vision, his eyes were still trained towards the passenger side window. He noticed that the scenery around him was standing still so he shifted his eyes to look ahead of him, intending on glaring at the red light but realized that they were not at a traffic light at all. Dash had parked the car at the side of the road and was sitting with his arms crossed, waiting. Buster raised his eyebrows in surprise, he didn't think Dash wanted to talk to him.

"Uh, Dash? Why'd you stop?" He asked cautiously, Buster had witnessed his cousin's anger today and did not want to be at the receiving end of it any time soon. Dash turned his head and looked at him with an incredulous expression that caused Buster to shrink back into his seat.

"Why do you think dude? You could have died today, how could anyone be that stupid? I mean didn't you see everyone else hide, why would you run towards the thing!"

Buster didn't know how to reply to that, for a guy he only met a week ago Dash was being pretty protective. It was nice to know he cared, but he didn't feel like explaining himself. His reasons were too personal to share. What he needed was answers, so he ignored the questions and asked his own, "Is this sort of thing normal around here? People were scared but no one was else but me was shocked to see the aliens."

Dash raised one eyebrow as his lips curled into a slight amused smile, "Aliens? What are you talking about?" he asked.

Buster was confused, just seconds ago the guy was yelling at him for running towards the green creature and now he was acting as if he hadn't existed. "You know the 'thing' I ran towards, that everyone hid from!" he all but yelled in frustration. It was overwhelming to have such solid proof after years of convincing his friends and family, he wouldn't let go now.

Laughter bubbled out of Dash's throat and he rested his forehead on the steering wheel and clutched his stomach, his weird behaviour was really getting on Busters nerves. Just when he was about to snap at him, Dash got up and wiped a tear from his eye and said, "Those weren't aliens man, they were ghosts. I thought Amity was world famous for 'em, I'm surprised you didn't know. But even if you thought they were aliens it was still stupid to run towards it."

Buster could tell that his anger had dissipated completely, yet Buster muscles tensed further at the statement. "Ghosts? But they were glowing and the creature was green!" He protested, he had come so close to proving everyone wrong. It wasn't fair.

"Yeah I know, they aren't like you see in the movies but they're the real deal. We've been living with them for years, take my word for it." With that he shifted gears and pulled pack into the moving traffic as if the situation had been resolved on his end. However, Buster did not feel the same way, his head pounded from the new information. It wasn't that he didn't believe in ghosts, on any other day he would be amazed at the discovery. He would have wasted no time to call Arthur. However, aliens were more important. He needed to prove to the world that they were real. That was his first step and he had almost tasted the small victory only to have it snatched away in an instant.

The remainder of the ride was silent save for the soft humming coming from Dash. As they pulled into the driveway, Buster remembered something he wanted to know. "Why did the white haired one save me and fight the other one?" He asked abruptly before Dash could jump out of the driver seat.

Dash turned to him, "man, I can't believe you've never heard of Phantom. He's a superhero, it's his job to save you from evil ghosts. He's awesome." Then he pushed open his door and disappeared into the house.


	4. Chapter 4: Friends

The wind swept the white hair out of his eyes as he swooped down towards the park, Danny intended on running a final check over the area before ending his nightly patrol. He silently hoped he wouldn't find anything, it had been a quiet day and he wanted it to end that way.

Hoping to get a few minutes of relaxation on the swings without any kids around, he mentally crossed his fingers and flew around. Danny grinned widely at the absence of his ghost sense before making a nose dive toward the swing set. Even if he could literally fly towards the stars, the swings gave Danny a sort of nostalgic pleasure as he was reminded of the days he would try to launch himself to the moon.

He landed on a swing, propelling it forward by the momentum of his flight and was about to transform back to his human form when his heightened hearing picked up something that sounded like coughing. Holding back the ring of white light, he flew out of his moving seat to investigate the sound. As he approached the direction he thought the coughing originated from he heard a ruffling sound of something shifting in the grass below him.

It was way past midnight on a Sunday, nobody should really be at the park. With all his guards up, Danny turned himself invisible and approached the area. There was a large oak tree, it sounded like there was someone behind it.

Cautiously he made his way around the thick trunk, painfully aware that it could be a trap. The figure he was met with caused the tension in his shoulders to relax, he almost laughed but was too concerned with the condition of the presence to do so. There was a boy hunched over, sitting at the base of the tree. It was Dash's cousin, Buster, and it looked like he had been crying.

Danny's heart dropped at the lost look on the small boy's face, he had the sudden urge to comfort him or do anything to help. He hadn't seen much of the kid since the incident two weeks ago but he noticed that he didn't make it a habit to sit with the A-listers at lunch, however this did not skew Sam and Tucker's opinion on him.

To Danny, the kid seemed like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Danny knew how that felt.

He silently floated in front of Buster while he contemplated making an appearance. He knew that Buster was scared of him, he didn't want to make it worse. But the Baxter residence was pretty far, he wanted to help get the boy home.

Before he could make a decision, Buster's body language changed as if he sensed someone was watching him. He straitened his back and stiffened his shoulders as he moved his gaze around the park. Bringing his eyes back, he locked his gaze straight ahead. If Danny was visible, they would be staring at each other.

"Is someone there?" Buster asked in a much more confident tone than Danny would expect from someone crying alone in the dark. Slowly, Danny lifted his invisibility to reveal his presence to the kid.

"Calm down I'm not going to hurt you," Danny said, lifting his arms in defense as he noticed Busters eyes go wide and breathing pick up. The kid had instinctively backed himself closer to the tree before he relaxed. Recognition passed in his eyes and he smiled slightly.

"I remember you, you're a superhero right?" Buster asked as he tried to discreetly wipe away any signs of tears. "I never got the chance to thank you for saving me."

Danny was taken aback by the sudden change, he was sure that he had seen raw fear the last time their eyes met. Now he saw nothing but gratitude, and deep sadness that didn't belong on such an innocent looking face. It aged him, it was disturbing. He rubbed the back of his neck in response, he had always been awkward when being praised for his heroics. "Don't sweat it dude, it's what I'm here for."

Smiling at him, Buster looked down and began fiddling with the grass. Danny took the opportunity to take a seat across the boy. "So, I had been wondering. Why'd you run towards the ghost anyway?"

Buster looked mildly surprised by the question and Danny realized that he shouldn't have known the events that unfolded before Phantom showed up. Sam and Tucker should not have been able to fill Phantom in, they were Fenton's friends. Buster didn't seem to notice Danny's mini panic attack and proceeded to answer, "I thought it was an alien."

Tilting his head slightly, Danny smirked. "That sure explains it, running towards aliens is totally acceptable."

Looking blankly at him for a second, Buster began laughing. The joke wasn't really that funny but at the genuine sound, Danny couldn't help but join in. However, the contagious laughter saddened Danny even more. It was the first expression that didn't seem eerily out of place, somehow Danny knew that this was the real Buster. He was just lost somewhere behind the aged eyes.

Once the laughter died down, they sat in silence for a few short moments before Danny asked, "So what are you doing out here so far from home?"

Lifting his eyes to meet Danny's and then narrowing them, "how do you know I don't live near here?" he counter questioned.

Slightly frazzled by the accusation, Danny faltered but quickly found a reply. "Well you're Dash Baxter's cousin right? I know where he lives, I'm pretty well acquainted with the town I serve."

Buster kept him under the scrutinizing stare for a few more moments until finally letting go, "I guess that makes sense."

"You didn't answer my question," Danny softly said after a few silent moments. He sensed that Buster didn't really want to talk about it but he knew he probably needed to.

A heavy sigh escaped the younger boy's lips and he rested his head against the trunk. "I'm homesick," was all he said in reply. Danny knew there was more to it but didn't want to pry. Just when he was about to offer to fly the kid home he began to talk.

"We have a treehouse in a big tree just like this back in my hometown. Me and my friends built it with our parents when we were really young, it was a lot of fun. We spent a lot of time up there…I really miss having friends."

Danny watched him carefully as he spoke, and was surprised by his confession. He had noticed that the kid was a bit of a loner but didn't realize that he hadn't made any friends at all. "Must be difficult to move away from the people you love and grew up with," he said, trying to sympathize with him. His words however seemed to bring fresh tears to Buster's eyes, Danny knew there was something deeper than merely missing his friends. Suddenly Danny realized that he hadn't seen the kid's parents around the Baxter residence.

"I guess you know how that feels huh?" Buster said, bringing Danny out of his thoughts.

Realizing the Buster naturally thought that he was dead, he thinned his lips, gave him a tight smile, and nodded. "Yeah" was all he could choke out, he didn't want to lie to the boy, but he did know what would become of him if he lost the ones who loved and supported him, shivering at the memory he turned his attention back to his companion. It seemed like he was done talking though, Danny was no longer in the mood to go home so he closed his eyes and rested his head on his knees.

"Hey Phantom?" came the small voice, disturbing the small nap Danny had fallen into.

"Yeah?" he replied, in a slightly groggy way.

"Are you sure you aren't an alien?" he almost whispered as if his life depended on the answer and despite knowing that he would be disappointed, needed to ask.

"Uh, I'm pretty sure I'm not an alien. Never lived on another planet, why?" He replied, somehow knowing that although it was an amusing question he should not be joking about it.

"It's just that I always thought ghosts would be different, you don't look completely human. I can't really imagine how you would have looked alive. I mean if your family saw you they probably wouldn't recognize you and that's…I would want to know if a ghost of my relative was around."

Danny didn't know how to reply to that, he looked down at his glowing hands and frowned. He was right, his family had no idea who Phantom was to them. The statement had hit a bit too close to home.

"It's getting pretty late, let me take you home. It would be a lot faster than walking," he said completely ignoring the boy's disturbing but truthful words. Buster frowned but nodded nonetheless. Danny put his arm around his waist and turned them both intangible so he could phase them through the leaves of the tree, it was unnecessary but Danny felt like showing off to lift his mood.

He performed a few harmless stunts along the way and noted the smile on Buster's face from the excitement. He giggled as he felt the boy's grip tighten when he did a loop-de-loop but noticed the grin widen. He brought him to the Baxter house and asked which window was Buster's. Following the direction he passed them through the window and gently dropped them both onto their feet.

Buster all but squealed once the ride was finally over, "That was awesome! Better than any roller-coaster I've ever been on! Arthur is never going to believe this. I mean he didn't believe me about the ghosts so…" He babbled.

Danny smiled, "Who is Arthur?" he asked.

The excitement was soon replaced by a longing look and Danny was almost sorry he asked. But Buster smiled widely and walked over to the bed, picked up a picture from his bedside table and sat down on the soft mattress. Danny followed and sat down beside him, peering at the picture that was of a bunch of kids at what seemed to be a birthday party. Pointing at a boy that was standing beside Buster in the photograph, "that's him, my best friend, we still talk everyday but it's not the same," he said sadly.

Danny lifted his arm and gave the boy a gentle squeeze on the shoulder, he knew anything he had to say wouldn't really help. "Get some sleep," he advised instead while flashing him a knowing look.

Buster nodded, "thanks for listening," he said quietly as he put down the picture back in its place.

"That's what friends are for," Danny said without missing a beat.

Buster looked up surprised but then smiled warmly at him before muttering a final, "Thanks"

Danny took that as his que to leave, giving a mock solute he lifted himself of the bed and floated out the window. Turning around he waved to the silhouette of his new friend and flew of in the direction of Fenton Works. He should probably get some sleep as well.

* * *

Quickly gathering his books once he finally heard the bell ring, Danny shook his head to try and clear his rapidly forming headache. He hated math with a passion. He had spent the last twenty minutes of the period silently hoping for a ghost attack just so he could escape, but the ghosts would never show up when he wanted them to. Figures.

Sighing, he dropped his heavy bag onto the floor in front of his locker and rested his throbbing head on the cool metal. He heard the familiar heavy footsteps approaching, but he was too tired to care. Right on time, a large hand grabbed the back of his head and pulled it back before slamming it into the same spot it was resting against moments ago. Danny didn't react, it didn't really hurt as much as it should've anyway, but that didn't stop the eruption of snickers from Dash and his friends as they stalked away.

He lifted his head and turned the lock as if nothing happened, Dash's bullying had become nothing more than an annoyance and inconvenience. He had lost interest in revenge a long time ago. He lazily exchanged his books for the ones he would need after lunch and waited for his two friends to appear around the corner. Just as he slammed the door shut he spotted them approaching and waved.

"Hey Danny," They both said in unison.

"Hey guys, how've you been," he asked as they walked together toward the cafeteria.

"Fine, how was patrolling last night? Sorry I couldn't make it," Tucker said. Their schedules were not as flexible as they were during freshman year and Danny found himself on solo missions more often than not. He didn't blame them though, he could handle it most of the time.

"It was quiet. Nothing I couldn't handle," he said, flashing a reassuring smile and choosing to omit his encounter with Buster. There were somethings that they didn't need to know. Sam nodded and then proceeded to change the topic. They entered through the double doors and headed straight for the lunch line. He idly listened to her complain about some sort of injustice in the world as he thought of his new friend.

He was so different than the other Baxter, polar opposites. Danny was surprised that Dash had actually got along with his cousin, if they weren't related he was sure Dash would have chosen the small kid as a victim.

He turned his attention away from his friends who had begun bickering and scanned the room. Finally spotting who he was looking for, he made a split second decision and interrupted the beginning of a full on fight behind him, "I'm gonna go sit over there." Sam and Tucker abruptly stopped yelling and watched him go.

Sam raised her left brow when she saw who he was heading for, "When is he going to drop the notion that the Baxter kid is a decent person? Danny really is too clueless sometimes, he's only going to get hurt for talking to him," she said as she sat at their regular spot.

"I don't know Sam, Danny does have a point. Look at him, he sits alone almost every day unless Dash drags him to the A-list table." Sam slowed her chewing as she thought about what he said. They turned their attention towards the two boys in question and watched as Danny asked to sit down.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" Danny asked with a friendly smile plastered across his face.

Buster looked up with confusion and slowly shook his head, "go ahead" he said.

"I'm Danny, nice to meet you," He chirped as he dropped his tray down and plopped down on the hard seat across from the boy.

"Nice to meet you too, I'm Buster" he said shyly scratching his head, "You're a junior right?" he asked.

Danny nodded, "yup." and proceeded to shove a spoonful of whatever it was on his lunch tray into his mouth.

"Hm, I guess that makes sense" Buster replied thoughtfully, "Most of the other freshman are too afraid to talk to me."

Danny furrowed his thick eye brows, "Why's that? You don't really look intimidating," he stated. Danny knew the answer but he was playing the clueless card.

"You don't really know who I am do you?" Buster asked warily.

"Not a clue," he responded. Buster looked at him in the eye, unable to catch the fib he smiled.

"Good," was all that he said as he continued eating.

"You're new to Amity right?" Danny asked, to continue the friendly exchange.

"I am," came the other boy's reply.

"Well how do you like it?"

"It's a nice city I guess even though I haven't seen much of it. But I've got to say, I was blind-sighted by the ghosts."

Danny chuckled and nodded, "You get used to them," he supplied with a shrug. Danny really liked this kid, he was one of the most genuine people he had ever met. He glanced over towards his usual table intending on glaring at Sam and Tucker for judging Buster so harshly when he spotted them making their way over. Surprised, Danny turned to Buster and warned him of the arrival, "Don't look now dude but we are about to ambushed by my friends, they may come off as judgmental but they mean well."

Buster tensed but nodded and shortly after was greeted by a dark voice, "Hey there, I'm Sam and this is Tucker. Since our friend here refuses to spend time with us today, we decided to give you a chance." She sneered, Danny shook his head in annoyance. She really needed to get over her hatred for the popular crowd, Buster wasn't even one of them.

"Hey man," was all that Tucker said before he sat down and continued to devour his lunch.

Danny smirked, Tucker was always more trusting of Danny's judgements.

"Hi," Buster timidly replied but said nothing else and instead stared down at his lunch, hardly eating anything.

Danny glared at Sam, she was really intimidating when she wanted to be. He knew that she was trying, in a strange protective kind of way. Even if he appreciated her, he hated her methods. Danny didn't need protection from a freshman, a small shy one at that. Turning his attention away from the girl he looked at the quiet boy, noting the barely touched lunch, "the food here is pretty bad huh? Wanna join us after school at the Nasty Burger?"

"I've never been there, is it good?"

Buster was aiming the question at Danny but Tucker intercepted, "It is good? It's the best!"

His enthusiasm caught Buster of guard but Danny's chuckling caused him to join in. He relaxed his posture and said, "Sure why not?"

Sam watched the exchange closely and then rested her chin in right palm, "why do you sit alone at lunch?" she asked with narrowed eyes.

"I, uh didn't make any friends." Buster replied while blushing in embarrassment.

Danny exhaled loudly, "Sam," he warned.

"Hm, I've seen a couple of the popular kids your age try and approach you. What's you're deal? Why don't you join them?"

Buster shifted in his seat uncomfortably, "I don't know, I just don't feel like I belong in that crowd I guess," he said with his eyes trained away from her.

Sam looked genuinely surprised by his answer but not completely convinced, she just hummed and went back to her lunch. Danny smirked, he loved being right. Tucker giggled at the obvious defeat, even if he had been on Sam's side. 'That hypocrite' Danny thought with a smile.

Danny continued the small talk and Tucker happily joined in, Sam remained relatively quiet but added a comment here and there. Buster seemed to enjoy Danny's company which made him very happy. Ever since the night he first saw him, Danny knew there was something wrong. It was just a hunch, but last night he knew for sure. Being who he was, Danny had the urge to help. Buster was slowly drowning, and Danny needed to save him.

* * *

Stepping out onto the concrete stairs after school, Buster looked around for the older group of kids that had been nice enough to invite him out. He was kind of nervous, but grateful that they even bothered to talk to him without having some sort of ulterior motive. The girl didn't seem to like him and had gave him the cold shoulder, but he could live with that. He finally spotted them hanging around a tree and waved. Danny was the first to notice him and smiled brightly, gesturing him to join them.

Buster decided that he really liked Danny, he had a very carefree ambiance that was comforting to be around. His friends would get some getting used to, they seemed more guarded and it put him on edge.

He couldn't fathom why a guy like Danny would even want to be friends with him. Since when did juniors even associate with freshman? Danny wasn't a popular kid, Buster hadn't seen him around Dash's friends and he didn't seem to know anything about Buster's association with the 'king' of Casper high. However, Danny looked far from a loser. He was rather intimidating for someone as small as Buster. Buster didn't ask much about the boy but if he had to guess, Danny was some sort of athlete. Not as bulky as Dash but tall and strong looking.

Once he joined them, they started down the sidewalk in the direction of the Nasty Burger. Buster's stomach growled loudly causing him to blush, "I hear ya dude, I'm famished!" Tucker stated dramatically in response to the sound, raising his hand to his forehead to strike a tragic pose.

They all laughed, "Tuck is a bit of a monster when it comes to food, he could eat a 10 man meal in one sitting," Danny informed him.

Buster raised his eyebrows in excitement, "No way! I guess we have something in common then."

Tucker gave him a disbelieving look, "I'm talking big meals man."

Buster nodded innocently, "I know," he said.

Tucker narrowed his eyes, "I challenge you, 10 Nasty Burger meals in one sitting, you accept?"

"Buster, I don't think that's a good idea…" Danny started with a worried look but Buster held out his hand feeling smug, "you're on!"

Tucker was taken aback by the lack of hesitation but quickly recovered. He spread his lips into an evil smirk and stopped walking to grab his hand. Buster looked at him curiously but shook it anyway. 'This will be fun' he thought.

Twenty minutes later, Buster was slumped back in his seat across from Tucker rubbing is belly in agony. However the pain did not stop the victorious expression from taking residence on his face. Tucker's head was being repeatedly banged against the sticky table as he cried in defeat, "How could I lose to a freshman! I've gone soft, I blame you Sam!" The said girl only rolled her eyes in disgust and continued to munch on her salad. Buster noted that she was probably a vegetarian.

Danny snickered, "I never thought I'd see the day, congratulations dude." Feeling a little embarrassed he mumbled a thank you in response. He was just about to question Sam about her eating habits in an attempt to get her to talk when he heard a familiar voice from behind him.

"Hey Fentonio!" Buster sighed in relief when he realized Dash hadn't seen him and wouldn't be scaring off his new friends.

"Mind scramming? I'm not in the mood at staring at your ugly head while I eat," he said getting closer, Buster looked at Danny's face and noticed his eyes get dark in annoyance and anger.

"As a matter of fact, I do mind Dash. It's a free country, I can sit wherever I want. I'm not too pleased with your face either but you don't see me complaining about it do you?" Danny replied, and Buster realized Dash was had been talking to Danny. Out of all the thoughts circling in his head, the most baffling was 'Fentonio?' Where had Dash come up with that?

Buster heard Dash's steps pick up as he stomped over and grabbed Danny's collar, all while Danny didn't even flinch. However Dash's movements were cut short as his eyes landed on something, or someone. "Buster? What are you doing here?" he asked, in a horrified almost comical way.

Buster looked at him and pointing to the food trays in front of them, "Eating? I thought it was obvious."

"But why are you with Fenton and the freaks?"

Guessing that Danny was 'Fenton,' Buster grew irritated, "I can eat with whoever I want Dash, just go away," he grumbled.

Dash was mildly shocked by the hostility but turned to Danny, tightening the loosened grip. "I'm warning you Fenton, don't bring you and your creepy family near my cousin," without sparing a second glance at Buster, the jock stomped away.

Danny adjusted his shirt and picked up his drink, taking a large slurp before catching Buster's eye. He pulled the straw out of his mouth, gave him a small smile and winked. Buster's eyes widened when he realized that Danny had known exactly who he was this whole time, but didn't care.

"He bullies you a lot doesn't he?" Buster asked sadly

"What can I say? I'm his favourite," The older boy replied, picking out the pickles in his Burger. Buster wondered why he was being so indifferent to all of this.

"Since elementary school," Sam provided, her presence had almost been forgotten and her sudden comment surprised him. He looked at her cold eyes and crossed arms and realized why she didn't like him, she was being protective of Danny. Dash had probably hurt him in unforgivable ways, the thought made his stomach drop. Danny was such a nice guy, how could Dash be so cruel?

"I'm really sorry," he meekly attempted, locking gazes with her. He knew full well that it wasn't enough, but he wanted her to know that he wasn't like Dash. Buster Baxter was not a bully.

"Don't be, it's not your fault. It doesn't even bother me anymore. Between us, your cousin is kind of a joke. He realized a while ago that he couldn't hurt me anymore, but I gotta give it to him, he's persistent." Danny replied without looking up to see the staring contest between Sam and Buster.

Buster wasn't comforted by his words in any way, 'couldn't hurt me anymore' only meant that at one point Dash had hurt him. He couldn't help but feel guilty. "He is pretty different at home, granted I only met him this month, I would have never expected he was a bully when we spent time alone." He informed them, thinking pleading ignorance would ease his conscience. It didn't work. Logically he knew that it really didn't make sense for him to feel any sort of guilt, but it wasn't stopping the feeling from eating at him. Sam's glare wasn't helping either.

"Wait, you hadn't met him till you moved here?" Tucker questioned, breaking Sam from her angry trance. She looked at Tucker and as if hearing the words for the first time turned her eyes to meet Busters once again, only laced with confusion instead of malice.

"Nah, I didn't even know my dad had a brother," he confessed.

"I guess it would be dumb to assume you would be just like him then huh?" Tucker asked. Buster scratched his head and wondered why that even mattered.

"So why'd you move in with them anyway?" Sam asked, in a milder tone that he had ever heard from her before.

Despite the progress with the Goth girl, the question caused him to clam up and stutter before finally replying, "It's a long story." One that he was not ready to tell. Danny gave him a reassuring smile to indicate that it was alright, he didn't have to share if he didn't want to. Buster was grateful.

Danny took the opportunity to change the subject to something a bit lighter. Sam surprisingly joined in, Buster guessed she decided to give him a real chance. He learned that she liked to grow a lot of her own food and he offered to exchange some gardening tips that he had picked up from Fritz. She had been surprised that he was interested since her two friends didn't bother listening to her when she got environmental. Buster was enjoying himself but there was something that was bothering him.

"Hey do you guys know that guy? He's been glaring at us since we got here," Buster said annoyed as he eyed the ginger a few tables away from them. He was sitting with a large group but his gaze hadn't wavered for more than a few minutes, it was getting on Busters nerves.

Danny turned around to spot who Buster was referring to. He was surprised when he heard Danny chuckle. "Oh him?" He asked before waving, causing the ginger to narrow his eyes and look away, "don't worry he's harmless."

Buster raised a brow at the strange exchange, Danny sure was one mysterious guy.

"It's normal?" He asked doubtfully.

The three friends exchanged amused looks as if it were some sort of messed up inside joke. "It's a long story," Danny replied casually. Buster took that as his hint to drop it.

"…okay, hey what did Dash mean earlier?" He asked trying to change the topic.

"Huh?" Danny asked distractedly, flicking Tucker with some crumbs.

"When he said to keep your family away from me" he prompted, he had been pretty curious about why Dash would say such a thing.

"Oh that, my parents are the town's ghost hunters, part of the reason why he picks on me. He somehow got the idea in his head that it makes me a freak," He replied rather playfully and proceeded to wink, but this time it wasn't directed at Buster. He guessed he wasn't supposed to have even noticed it, it left him feeling a little uneasy. Danny's jokes were strange. He didn't understand.

He was about to question him more about the 'ghost hunting' when Danny's demeanor suddenly changed drastically. The once calm and carefree guy transformed, looking paranoid and alert. He nervously glanced around and rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, I just remembered that I had a bunch of errands to run for my parents. They are gonna kill me if I forget again," he hurriedly said as he shot out of his seat and all but sprinted out the door.

Buster was left dumbstruck, awkwardly sitting with his remaining two companions. Danny really was strange.


	5. Chapter 5: The case of Daniel Fenton

Slowly pushing his feet against the sand to move the swing he was seated in, Buster stared out into the sky lost in his thoughts. He did not realized that he was no longer alone until a voice from the swing beside him interrupted the silence, "You shouldn't be making a habit of this. It's a school night isn't it?" Phantom said as he swung higher than Buster, a wide smile on his face.

"I can't sleep; nightmares," Buster said shrugging his shoulders to play it off, the nightmare had been pretty bad. He probably wouldn't be getting back to sleep tonight at all.

Phantom slowed down his swinging and turned his head to look at him "oh," he said in his echoed voice but made no further comments.

"And I was hoping you'd show up again," Buster said turning his head to meet Phantom's eerie eyes that still creeped him out a bit.

Phantom grinned again, "Well here I am," he said cheerily.

Smiling at the ghost, "yeah" he whispered. Buster thought of how weird it was that he was sitting in the middle of a park past midnight waiting for a supernatural being. He had always been weird, but even he would have never expected this.

"So, how was your day?" Phantom asked oblivious to Buster's internal musings. Buster watched as his glowing form moved back and forth, unnaturally fast, carefree.

"It was pretty good actually, I made some new friends." He replied, thinking of the three older kids. Well at least he hoped they were his friends. They did say they would see him later, well Sam and Tucker did. Danny didn't really have time for a proper goodbye.

"That's great to hear!" Phantom enthusiastically said, Buster picked up his swinging to try and match speeds with the ghost.

"You said you know my cousin right?" He asked.

"Yeah" Phantom absentmindedly responded, Buster had the feeling he knew that Buster was trying to match his speed and was going faster.

"Well do you know Danny and his friends?" He asked, at that the ghost slowed down allowing Buster to finally gain the upper hand.

He turned to Buster, "Danny Fenton?" he asked.

"Yeah, him" Buster said, smiling victoriously. He knew the victory would be short lived but he could bask in the glory for a few moments longer.

"Yup, I know him. He's the son of Amity's greatest ghost hunters. He's a great guy, very fun to be around." Danny said after a small pause, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Yeah, he's really nice." Buster said, "kind of strange though," He added as an afterthought.

"Strange?" Phantom asked curiously, the amusement not leaving his tone.

Buster guessed that Phantom knew exactly what Buster meant but replied anyway, "it's probably nothing, they just had some jokes that I didn't understand. He left kind of abruptly."

"Oh, that's normal for him. He's known for his disappearing acts. Nothing to worry about really," Phantom offhandedly commented. He smirked at Buster before effortlessly surpassing his speed again. He chuckled at Phantom's competitiveness and opted on slowing down, he was getting tired. He wiped the sweat of his brow and watched as an airplane flew across the sky.

Just then Phantom jumped of his seat, "I'll be right back," he yelled and flew of in the direction of the plane. Buster watched as Phantom's figure became smaller and smaller, suddenly there was a blast of green light similar to what he saw that night before school started. He realized that the 'airplane' was probably another ghost that Phantom had flew off to fight.

It wasn't long before the ghost boy returned carrying something in his left hand, he set it down carefully in the sand then phased through the bottom of the swing seat and sat down. He smiled and said, "I'm back," but didn't bother swinging anymore.

"What's that?" Buster pointed down at the object in the sand.

Phantom followed his finger with his gaze and said, "oh this, it's a Thermos."

Confused, "Ghosts can eat?" Buster asked.

Phantom laughed, "Well this isn't for carrying soup, it's a ghost fighting device. It captures ghosts so I could take them back to the ghost zone"

"The ghost zone?" Buster asked, growing very curious.

Phantom nodded, "the dimension or plane of reality where ghosts live," he explained.

Buster hummed and a thoughtful look came across his face, "why don't you live there?" he inquired.

Phantom looked at him in the eye, raised his left eyebrow then rubbed the back of his neck, "I'm different" he finally said.

Buster noted that he didn't seem like he wanted to talk about it, but he couldn't help question him further. "Is that why you fight the ghosts and help the humans?"

"I guess so" Phantom said, nodding slowly.

"So are you the only good ghost?" He asked, the question elicited an unreadable expression from the ghost under scrutiny. It was mixture between amusement, gratefulness and sadness.

"No, there are plenty of good ghosts, they just don't bother leaving the ghost zone. It's the 'bad' ones that want to come here and take advantage of the humans." He said a matter-of-factly. Buster thought about his words, they made sense. Ghosts sounded similar to humans, just because you only see the bad things people do on the news doesn't mean all humans are bad. But, there are bad people out there as well as bad ghosts that are capable of terrible things. A shiver ran down his spine, there was something he wanted to know.

"Do you think they would kidnap a human and take them into the ghost zone forever?" He asked, his voice cracking. Phantom shot him a concerned look and Buster looked away, not wanting him to see the wetness forming in his eyes.

After brief hesitation, he replied "uh, maybe. I've seen it happen but I got them out before anything bad happened to them."

Wiping at his moist eyes, he bit his lip and whispered, "Oh."

Phantom floated out of his seat to position himself in front of the obviously distraught boy. He put his hands on each shoulder and asked, "What's wrong?"

Refusing to meet the ghost's eyes, he mumbled out a soft, "nothing."

Phantom didn't move despite the denial, Buster wished he had never asked. "Are you sure? You could tell me anything, you know. I'm not going to betray it to anyone," he said softly, in a caring tone.

Buster knew that he could, that maybe he should…but he wasn't ready.

Politely removing Phantoms hands from there spot on his shoulders, "thank you, but I'm fine."

Phantom didn't look convinced but he floated a little backwards to give him some space. Buster felt guilty for ruining their fun so he asked, "hey can we go flying again?"

Breaking out into a cocky grin, Phantom responded with a confident, "sure." He disappeared out of sight but reappeared seconds later behind him. He tucked his arms securely under Buster's and lifted him up before skyrocketing away.

* * *

He bit his lip in concentration as he stared down at his worksheet. Mr. Ratburn had taught this to them in third grade, he wasn't very good at it then but maybe if he tried hard enough he could remember…

"Hey cuz" Dash bellowed, interrupting his concentration as he barged into Buster's room. He sighed, threw down his pen on his desk and turned his swivel chair to face the loud boy.

"Hey," he replied with much less enthusiasm.

Dash walked over to a shelf and started to fiddle with random things, he opened and closed his mouth several times trying to start a conversation before finally settling with an eloquent, "so…"

At Dash's odd but obvious behavior, Buster rolled his eyes and asked in an irritated voice, "Yes?" he needed to get that worksheet done and Dash was not helping.

"Can you please explain to me why you refuse to make normal friends and choose to hang-out with the creepy crowd?" He finally said, Buster could tell that the fact had been bothering him for quite some time, and he felt a bit flattered that Dash was so worried about his social status. But the anger that bubbled from the rude comment about his friends overpowered the feeling.

"How are they creepy?" he asked, crossing his arms defensively. Buster really liked his friends, they were much nicer than the popular kids Dash forced him to hang-out with. Dash raised his arms in exasperation and practically yelled, "Dude have you even seen that girl? Foley is a techno-freak on top of being a sleaze and don't get me started on Fentina."

Buster stared at his cousin, he understood what he meant about Sam and Tucker even if he didn't agree. However, Danny didn't have a distinctive category like his friends. He was a perfectly normal guy, to Buster it felt like Dash just had some sort of grudge against him. He narrowed his eyes and questioned, "What do you mean?"

Dash ran his fingers through his hair and made his way over to the bed. Buster swiveled so he was facing him again and watched. The jock stuffed his hands in his pockets and said, "Man, I know you are kind of clueless but don't tell me you haven't figured it out yet."

His roundabout way of telling him was really getting on Buster's nerves. He just wanted Dash to go away and mind his own business, they were Buster's friends not his.

"What?" he inquired disinterestedly.

"You haven't even heard the rumors?" Dash asked.

Buster clenched his jaw and spit out, "Dash, I don't know what you're talking about."

Dash studied his angered features for a moment before leaning back on his arms and finally declaring, "Fenturd, he's into some really deep shit. He's always running out of class, coming to school covered in cuts. You could tell if you look him the eye sometimes when he comes back, he's on drugs. I don't want you getting into that"

Buster was taken aback by the solemn expression. Dash was actually serious about this, Buster realized, but he couldn't help burst into a fit of hysterics. Clenching his stomach with his left hand, "That's hilarious, Danny is nothing like that," he said. Dash jumped of the bed and defensively yelled, "You've only known him for like a week!"

Instantly sobering up, Buster plastered and calm expression of his face and stated, "Yeah but I can tell."

Dash raised an eyebrow at that, "no offense Buster, but you thought the ghosts were aliens."

Deciding that he was done with this conversation, he swiveled his chair back towards his desk and picked up his pen, "That's different," he whispered.

Stomping towards the door, "Fenton is not a good person to be around, there is trouble wherever he goes. Everyone knows he's a freak, even the teachers. I can't control you, but don't come crying to me when you realize I'm right," he shouted before slamming the door shut behind him.

* * *

Walking into the Baxter residence, Danny was not paying much attention to his surroundings. With his head turned to look over his shoulder as he spoke with his friends, he didn't notice the large mass in front of him and collided hard into it. Cursing under his breath he backed away and looked up to inspect the damage on the wall only to realize that it wasn't a wall at all, but a jock.

Dash stood with his arms crossed glaring angrily at Danny, he smiled slyly and lifted his right hand, giving a little wave. "Watch where you're going, Fentertainment tonight," he grumbled as he pushed his way past Danny.

Completely ignoring the presence of the other two, Dash ruffled Busters blonde hair and left the house without another word

"Huh, I guess he really does like you doesn't he," Tucker said as they made their way towards the stairs.

Buster shrugged, "I guess," he said nonchalantly.

"I'm surprised he didn't try harder to get you to stop hanging out with us," Sam commented dryly.

At the statement, Danny noticed Buster bite his lip as if trying to hold back laughter. "Well he did try to tell me that you were on drugs, " He said turning to Danny at the top of the staircase as he spoke.

Danny blushed, rubbing the back of his neck he whispered, "I didn't think anyone believed that rumor."

Approaching a door in the hallway, Buster turned the knob and gestured them to enter. "I don't," he told Danny as they walked in.

Smiling sadly at him, "thanks," Danny mumbled. He had known something like that had been going around, but he had chosen to ignore it. Telling himself that no one was dumb enough to actually believe Danny would be mixed up in that sort of thing. However, he had to admit, it was the most plausible conclusion to jump to. Save for claiming he was a half-ghost, there really was no other way the citizens of Amity Park could explain the strange case of Daniel Fenton. Including his parents.

Trying to distract himself from the self-loathing thoughts that threatened to form, "Hey your room is so cool, I didn't know you were into space!" he said in an overly-excited tone.

Not noticing the fake attitude, Buster matched his enthusiasm. "You're into it too? I have always been that weird kid that believes in aliens and monsters. But space is just so cool, who knows what kind of creatures could be out there." He backed up and sat down on the bed looking dreamily up at the posters.

Danny genuinely chuckled at the expression, "I had always wanted to be an Astronaut," he confessed.

Buster looked up at him and seemed to notice the longing look in Danny's eyes, "so what happened?" he asked.

The past two and half years flashed before Danny's eyes, the portal accident, the ghost fights, the sleeping in class and the plummeting grades. He closed his eyes in frustration, he didn't like to think about what could have been if he was normal. He was a hero, he should be proud. "I realized I suck at math," he told the questioning boy in a tone that indicated that the conversation was over. The silence on Buster's end showing that he got the message.

Oblivious to the exchange, Tucker called over from Buster's desk holding something up in his hand. "Hey, I've never heard of this comic. Bionic Bunny? That sounds cool," he commented as he flipped through it.

Buster walked over and picked up another issue from his collection, "It's kind of childish, but it was my favourite. Still is I guess," he replied. Tucker hummed and continued to read the comic. Danny and the others exchanged looks and simultaneously giggled as Tucker gasped audibly at something.

Rolling her eyes, with a smile still on her face, Sam turned back to the framed pictures she had been looking at. "You look so cute in this picture, is that your mom?" She asked Buster. At the mention of his mother, Danny noticed the bags under Buster's eyes seemed to get deeper.

Buster slowly nodded, "yeah, it was taken on my first birthday without my dad. She was so worried, but all I cared about was the cake," he was smiling slightly, But Danny could see the hurt.

"Your parents are divorced?" Sam asked thoughtlessly, she hadn't turned her attention away from the photographs. Danny tried to clear his throat loud enough to get her attention, but she ignored him.

"Yeah," Buster replied. His voice threatened to crack. Danny scrunched his eyes, why couldn't she just take a hint?

Finally turning to face Buster, "where are they?" she asked. Danny slapped his forehead, she raised her eyebrow at that and finally met his eyes. From his positon behind Buster he motioned for her to stop. She seemed a bit confused but nodded in understanding.

Replying to her question, "my dad is a pilot, he can't stay in one place to too long. I traveled the world with him once," he said, carefully avoiding the subject of his mother. This did not go unnoticed by the trio, and before any of the other two could naïvely ask for the obviously distraught boy to explain, Danny attempted to steer the conversation away.

"That's so cool, have you been to Paris?" he asked.

Buster nodded, "yeah, I didn't eat any snails though," he added quickly. They all stared at him, his arms up in defense as if accused of it before.

"…okay," Tucker said breaking the silence and proceeded to ask Buster about something in the comic he was still reading. Danny watched as the tension dissipated from Buster's shoulders as he eagerly explained the overused plot, he breathed a sigh of relief.


	6. Chapter 6: Stalker

Slumping back into an uncomfortable mall bench, he sighed loudly and pulled out his phone from his front pocket. He had been ditched. Again.

Buster liked his new friends, they were always kind to him and they had fun together, but he sometimes felt left out. He knew for a fact that they hung out without him, which was expected since they had been friends since elementary school and he was just a new kid. However, on more than one occasion, they left in the middle of their plans to do something 'urgent'. Without much explanation. Usually it was only Danny, but at times like today, he found himself suddenly and tragically alone.

Checking his messages in an attempt to not look like a complete loser, he opened a couple of unread texts, most of them from Arthur. There was also one from his Dad and one, surprisingly, from Francine.

Reading her message that informed him that he better not think he could get rid of her so easily, with a few threats thrown in, he smiled. A ball of guilt coiled in the pit of his stomach, he hadn't been keeping up with the rest of his friends as well as he should have, he had promised he wouldn't lose touch. He wondered how they were doing, he really did miss them.

Leaning back, he began replying and sending out extra-long messages to the wonderful people he left behind. He made sure to include his discovery of ghosts' existence in his message to Brain. He knew he wouldn't believe him, but it was fun to mess with the genius. Imagining the exasperated expression on his face when he read Buster's message, he giggled and hit send. As Buster was busy he didn't notice someone sit down beside him.

"Hey," an unfamiliar voice cut through the loud buzzing sound of the mall. Flinching at the sudden occurrence, Buster looked up and was met with a painfully familiar face.

"Uh…hi" he replied slowly.

Casually leaning back, his arms thrown behind the back of the bench, "You're Buster Baxter, am I right?" The intruder asked.

"And you're the weird kid that stares at Danny," Buster deadpanned in response to the ginger.

Scoffing at the accusation, "trust me, I'm not the weird kid." He replied, but made no attempt to deny the actions.

Buster couldn't believe this guy, he had no idea why Danny found his creeping to be so hilarious. Narrowing his eyes, "I think stalking someone is pretty weird," he informed him.

Shrugging as if being accused of eating the last cookie, "I've got my reasons," he said cryptically.

Gritting his teeth at the teen's obnoxious behavior, "So why are you talking to me?" he asked as politely as possible.

"Information," was all the infuriating boy spit out, giving Buster a coy look.

"I don't have any information," Buster said as he defensively backed away.

The guy was freaking him out more than usual. Leaning in closer as if about to reveal a deep secret, "what can you tell me about Danny Phantom?" he loudly whispered.

Confused and alarmed by the question, Buster looked at him in the eyes and asked, "What does Phantom have to do with Danny?" Had this kid been stalking him too? How else would he know that he was friends with both Danny and Phantom? Gripping his phone, prepared to dial 911 if the guy got too personal, Buster waited for his response

"That's what I'm trying to prove," he said leaning back into his casual position.

Buster scratched his head, "you're confusing me," he stated.

Smirking, the boy turned his head away from Buster and said, "I'm sure your 'friend' would have no problem helping you out with that."

"Who, Danny or Phantom?" Buster wanted to know, the guy was making zero sense. He didn't understand why he couldn't just come out right and say whatever he was trying to say, Buster had never been good with mind games.

Giving Buster an amused grin, "Both, dude," he replied.

Raising both his brows, "do you know Phantom?" Buster asked. Maybe Phantom was friends with this kid too, he did tell Buster that he knew a lot of the kids at Casper.

"Yeah, so do you" the ginger said in triumph, the grin on his face widening considerably.

Buster nodded, still wary of the strange behavior. "I know," he replied casually.

At this, the ginger did a double take. "You know?" he questioned, shocked.

"Yes, why wouldn't I know?" Buster replied with an eye roll, giving up on trying to understand the guy.

"Because Danny wouldn't tell you! He doesn't tell anyone!" he shrieked, jumping off the bench and placing an accusing finger against Buster's chest.

Looking down at the offending finger with distain then back up to meet the wild hazel-green eyes, he pushed the finger off. "What does Danny have to do with it?" he asked feeling defensive once again.

The guy remained in front of him for a few moments, studying his defensive glare than backed away "…huh?" he managed to say. Buster decided that he had enough, this kid was crazier than Buster originally thought. Someone really should call the cops, but Buster wasn't in the mood to deal with that.

Getting up from his spot and tucking his phone away, "your name is Wes right?" he asked him, suddenly remembering the information from a conversation with Danny some time ago.

Wes nodded dumbly, "yeah," he confirmed, still studying him intently.

Shrugging off the uneasy feeling that he was getting under the stare, he moved away from him. Raising his arms apologetically, "look Wes, it was nice talking to you but I have to go now."

Turning at his heel, without looking back, he all but bolted out of the mall and headed back home.

* * *

Letting himself fall to his knees, he quickly capped the thermos and placed it on the pavement before sinking onto his back. He was tired. Letting his eyelids drop, he listened to the thrumming of his friends' footsteps approaching.

"Danny! Are you okay?" Sam's concerned voice asked as the two crouched down beside him. He opened his eyes and smiled, "yeah, just a little wiped out" he replied softly.

"That was pretty awesome man," Tucker remarked, Danny smirked and propped himself back up into a sitting position.

Resting his elbows on his knees, "Thanks," he said but silently took in all the public damage his powers had caused.

Biting his lip, "What time is it? Do you think we can still catch up with Buster at the mall?" he asked Tucker who instantly shook his head.

"Dude, we've been at it for about four hours, he's probably long gone by now."

A wave of guilt washed over his form, he would make it up to him. Maybe pay him a fun visit from Phantom.

"Danny?" Sam asked, breaking him out of his thoughts. He looked up at her and noticed they were both standing again, so he allowed himself to float up to join their height.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Don't you think this is getting to be a bit too much? Don't get me wrong, I like the kid but he's getting too close. He's going to start asking questions soon. What are you going to do then?" she said pointedly, worry embedded deeply in her features. Danny watched her intently, he understood what she was saying but he didn't get why she was so worried.

"You worry too much Sam, its fine alright? I know what I'm doing. Buster needed a real friend, so I gave him one. I'm not taking that away from him now. Besides, he's grown on me." He replied stubbornly, floating forward and higher before turning to face them.

"Hey, don't go replacing me with your little buddy," Tucker laughed, "Remember who stood by you during the hard times." He begged dramatically.

Danny chuckled, "Don't worry Tuck, I've always got room for you in my heart," he replied equally as dramatic.

"If I may interrupt your bromance, I'm being serious here," Sam said, annoyed of their inability to understand the gravity of the situation.

Danny sighed, "I know Sam, but can you just trust me?" he pleaded.

She stared at him, her hardened look unwavering. Silently wishing he would listen to her, nevertheless he saw the moment she gave in. Looking away, "fine" she muttered, making it clear that she wasn't happy about it.

Danny landed on the ground a few feet ahead of them, checked for any onlookers before transforming back into Fenton. He waited for them to catch up to him and smiled at Sam who half-heartedly smiled back. "Let's just get home, I can sleep for a week" he said.

They walked to a corner of the street from which their paths diverged, he waved to them and headed towards his eccentric house. Pulling out his phone he sent an apology text to Buster. Again. It was the third one this week.

He thought about his plan to visit tonight, after a bit a sleep. Phantom hadn't spent time with him for a couple of weeks. He felt a little guilty for keeping that part of his friendship with the boy from Sam and Tucker, but judging by today's conversation, he knew it was the right decision. They, especially Sam, would freak out that he would expose himself to discovery like that. But he couldn't help it, he didn't mean to put himself in such a position, it just happened. And it felt good to make the unhappy boy laugh and forget about the nightmares if only for a little while, isn't that what being a hero was all about?

His secret wasn't worth the kid's happiness.

* * *

Trying his best to not fall asleep at his teacher's droning voice, Danny stared straight ahead, watching the man's movements intently. He never noticed how big his nose was before, it moved up and down as he talked.

Realizing that he had stopped listening once again, Danny sighed and put his head down onto his desk. Just then, a cool wisp of air escaped his parted lips. Instantly, Danny perked up and shot his hand into the air. The short scruffy man looked at the hand in distain, "Danny, if you're going to make another excuse to leave this room, I advise you to put that hand down," he said dismissively.

"But Mr. Perkins! It's uh…an emergency," he begged, cheeks red at the elicited giggles. Before the teacher could retort, he got up and disappeared out of the room.

He quickly made his way to the bathroom that he knew to be usually empty. Kicking the door closed, he leaped up into the air, about to transform when he heard someone clear their throat behind him. Eyes widening, he let himself fall to the ground in panic, his chin colliding painfully against the tiled floor. He quickly collected himself and turned to see who it was, ready to lie his way out of the awkward situation.

Danny's shoulders relaxed and he breathed a sigh of relief at the face that met him, "Oh, it's just you" he laughed.

"You should be more careful," Wes' distinct voice echoed off the bathroom walls, "you never know who might be lurking in the shadows." He snarled, trying to sound mysterious.

Danny just giggled, "Actually I'm pretty sure it's only you Wes."

Staring right into his eyes, Danny allowed the powerful rings of light to envelope him, he loved to watch the expression on Wes' face every time he did that. It was a perfect concoction of shock, anger and awe. "Love to stay and chat, but you know, duty calls," and with that he slipped out of the brick wall, leaving his 'friend' behind.

Sam and Tucker would kill him if they knew how often he transformed in front of that boy. The first time, it had been an accident, out of desperation. Wes was relentless, he wouldn't let Fenton out of his sight during an attack, so he had given in. He was sure his secret had been blown and had prepared for the consequences all night. However, he soon realized that Wes's knowledge wasn't a threat. Not a soul believed his accusations, and Danny took it in stride. Admittedly he took advantage of the situation. He enjoyed watching him squirm, teasing the hell out of the frustrated ginger.

Looking around, Danny finally spotted the ghost that triggered his sense and promptly rolled his eyes. "What do you want now, Johnny?" He asked the greasy motorcyclist who grinned and powered up his ride. "Just to blow off some steam," he sneered and headed straight for Danny.

Less than ten minutes later, Danny invisibly slipped back into the washroom and behind a stall door, Thermos in hand. With a flash of light, his white hair turned black and he walked out, whistling. Stopping in his tracks, Danny tilted his head to stare at the boy perched on top of the bathroom counter.

"You still here buddy? I'm flattered, but you didn't have to wait up for me," he grinned, right hand placed mockingly over his heart.

Wes glared, "don't fool yourself Fenton, I'm not your buddy. I. Do. Not. Like You." He gritted out slowly.

Smiling sweetly, "for someone you don't like, you sure stare at me a whole lot," he said in a sing-song way, hands behind his back, hoisting himself up on his tiptoes and back down.

Breathing heavily through his nose, Wes leaned back. His hand fiddled with something in his pocket as he watched Danny but he didn't say anything.

Deciding he would have to be the one to relent, "If we're done here, I have to get back to class. Mr. Perkins may look sweet but he can be vicious." He began walking towards the door, only to be stopped once again.

"Why don't you just admit it, what are you afraid of?" Danny sighed, turning his head slightly he studied the boy. Still sitting on the bathroom counter, a smug look now adorned his face.

"Admit what?" he asked.

"Don't give me that again, you know what I'm talking about," Wes instantly retorted.

Fully turning his body, Danny crossed his armed over his chest. "What do you want from me Wes?" he asked sternly.

Wes looked grateful for the rare moment of seriousness and leaned forward, eyes calculating. "In the time that you've confirmed my suspicions, you have not once admitted it out loud."

Danny mulled over his words, it was true. He didn't think it was necessary, Wes practically saw proof of the fact every other day, why did he need a verbal confirmation? "I didn't deny anything, isn't that enough?" he asked, left eyebrow raised suspiciously.

"Then why did you tell the Baxter kid so easily?" he suddenly asked, finally getting to his intended point. At the sudden mention of Buster, Danny became utterly confused. What did the kid have to do with Wes's obsession?

"Huh?" he voiced.

Rolling his eyes at Danny, Wes clarified his question. "Buster, what makes him different than the rest of Amity? Why did you tell him your secret?"

Realizing what Wes was trying to ask, Danny shook his head. "Buster doesn't know," he denied.

Wes' expression soured further, if that was even possible. "Yes he does, he told me" he stubbornly stated, sounding like a pouting child.

Danny scratched his head, Phantom had just visited Buster last night. He made no indication that he had even the slightest hint of suspicion. Trying to sort out the misunderstanding, "What did he say?" he asked.

Wes narrowed his eyes, "that he is aware he knows Phantom," he stated with cool confidence.

However, his expression faltered as he watched Danny sag with relief. "See, he doesn't know," Danny said, cheerful once again.

Eyes flashing with confusion, "What?" Wes probed.

Taking pity on the kid, Danny allowed him a brief explanation. "Buster does know Phantom, he just doesn't know that Danny Fenton and Phantom are one and the same."

Suddenly a wide 'evil' grin spread out across his face, Wes pulled out his phone and Danny's last sentence resounded in the room. "I finally did it, I finally got proof!" he cried, fist pumping the phone up into the air in victory.

Tilting his head up slightly in exasperation, Danny pointed his finger lazily towards the boy freezing his arms in place as well as his butt to the counter. He walked over, looking Wes straight in the eye and slid the phone out of his hand. "I'll get you a new one" he said apologetically before it exploded into smithereens.

The look on Wes' face was priceless. Danny felt a bit guilty at the flash of fear he saw. "It was pretty stupid to tell me about it, don't you think?" he quipped, shrugging his shoulders. With a wink, he sent warm ecto-energy towards the ice and stalked away.

Just as the door slammed shut behind him a loud, frustrated scream sounded from behind it. Chuckling, Danny shook his head and headed back to what was left of his class.

* * *

Side Note: Wes Weston is a fandom created character, he is a pretty significant part of the story so if you never heard of him...he is the best and here you go

/c/cartoon/page/blog/who-the-heck-is-wes-a-danny-phantom-joke-that-came-alive/42MC_Yuozj5raZrzQ6m6MjKMgL56RxW

(or just google Who the heck is Wes)


	7. Chapter 7: Christmas

In a rare moment, sitting at their regular booth in the Nasty Burger, Buster and Danny were alone. Both Sam and Tucker had family plans this afternoon and the two boys were left in each other's company, not that Danny minded.

"You don't look very happy," Danny commented as he ate his fries.

Buster looked up from the spot of grease he was staring at and retorted, "I could say the same for you." Danny frowned, he was trying really hard, but this time of year just sent him spiraling into a month-long grumpy state.

"I strongly dislike Christmas," he confessed, wishing he could blast the obnoxiously flashing red nose off of the Rudolph figurine hung up on the wall.

Buster studied him, he looked surprised at the new tidbit of information. "I would have never pegged you for a Grinch," he admitted. Danny huffed and mumbled under his breath which caused Buster to chuckle, "So is there a back story?" he wanted to know, a small smile on his lips.

Glad that his sour mood was at least cheering someone up, he decided it wouldn't hurt to tell his tale of Christmas woe once again. Talking a deep breath, "my parents, as you know, are a bit eccentric and can get a tad obsessive. Every Christmas since I can remember, they've fought over Santa's existence…" He said, beginning his tale.

As he finished the story, he expressed how their quarrelling wasn't as bad anymore, but old habits die hard…especially for people as hard headed as the Fentons. It was just hard for him to get into the 'Christmas spirit' with that sort of environment. Even the thought of his sister returning home for Christmas didn't help much.

Buster listened intently, giggling and wincing when appropriate. Once the story was over, "Christmas had been stressful for me when I was younger as well," he offered.

Danny raised his eyebrow in curiosity, prompting him to explain. Taking the que, Buster began his own tale, "My mom worried that she wouldn't be able to give me the 'perfect' Christmas. Ever since my parents got divorced, she always fretted over things like that." Buster said, eyes glazed over in a look that was all too familiar to Danny, he had witnessed it on his face those many nights they spent together at the park. "She used to wake up extra early every day over the week leading up to Christmas Day, cook pancakes for breakfast and set out all the presents. And when Christmas finally did come, she was a bundle of nerves." he smiled sadly at the memory before continuing. "When I was in third grade, Arthur came up with the idea, instead of Christmas we would celebrate 'Baxter Day.' A day with no expectations, where we could just relax. She loved the idea, and we finally had fun during the holidays. It was pretty great."

He was silent for a long unbearable moment, however Danny knew not to intervene. He sensed that Buster was not finished just yet. Danny silently ate his fries as he waited for his friend to collect himself. Finally, in a soft voice, Buster continued. "This will be the first Baxter Day without her"

Looking up, Danny offered him a small smile. He knew it had taken a lot for Buster to even talk about his mother, much less disclose her absence. He wished he knew how to comfort him, but there wasn't much else he could do but listen. He hoped it was enough.

"Well I guess we are in this together then, huh?" he asked, ripping up a holiday themed flyer, trying to lighten the mood.

Buster smiled, "I guess so" he replied.

* * *

Standing by Danny's locker, Buster and the others waited for him to collect the last of his things before they could finally leave the gloomy halls for the entirety of two glorious weeks. When Danny was done, Buster looked at him in stunned silence. How had the guy managed to accumulate so much junk in less than four months?

"Dude, do you ever take anything home?" Tucker asked him, "You better not expect me to offer to help carry that junk. Because I won't," he concluded.

Danny chuckled, "Don't worry Tuck, I can handle it" Danny said, smirking.

Buster rolled his eyes, he was such a show off sometimes. After all his time knowing Danny, Buster had yet to figure out how he managed to get so strong. He ate as much fast food, if not more than him and wasn't into anything sport related. Filing it away as just another peculiarity about the mystery that is Danny Fenton, Buster tuned back into the conversation. Sam was being unnervingly cheery, she was creeping him out a bit. She had even hugged him today in greeting, it was scary.

As she chatted on about her plans for the holidays, Buster diverted his attention to the group of football players that they were approaching. He knew there was something up by the way their eyes kept lingering in his direction, or should he say Danny's direction. Before he could form his words to warn his friend of the impending attack, there was a loud crashing sound. Things flying in all directions out of Danny's arms, said boy lying face flat on the ground.

An eruption of laughter filled the halls as Buster, Sam and Tucker rushed to help up their fallen comrade. Buster took a moment to search the group of guys for a familiar blonde head, finding the guy he was looking for, he fixed him with a hard glare. Dash raised his arms, conveying his innocence. Buster didn't buy it.

Turning back to collect the items, he picked up a first-aid kit. 'What kind of kid keeps this in their locker' he thought and turned to collect some scattered papers. The sound of clacking heels suddenly caught his attention, interrupting him out of his contemplation. He looked up to see a pretty girl walking over to Danny.

Being the nosey kid that he was, Buster felt no reservation in listening to the conversation.

"Are you okay?" she asked sincerely.

Danny fumbled over his words before responding with an eloquent, "yeah."

The girl giggled, "I'm glad…actually, I came over to invite you to my Christmas party. You can bring all your friends as well," she said sweetly, "I really hope you can make it," she finished before waving and walking away.

Danny stood there, staring at the invitation in his hand, instantly looking over to meet Tucker's eyes. "Dude, it's a senior party" he said excitedly and the two proceeded to high-five.

"Dude, she was totally in to you," Tucker teased, Buster knew this was true. The girl had been flipping her hair and batting her eyelashes. All signs that a girl was interested, he had read it in one of Muffy's dumb teen magazines.

Danny blushed, "Nah, she was just nice. That's all," he denied. Tucker rolled his eyes and looked over to meet Busters gaze. They smiled knowingly at each other.

"So are we gonna go or what?" Sam asked, pulling the paper out of Danny's hand.

"Of course we are going Sam! It's a senior party!" Tucker exclaimed, "You're in, right Buster?" he asked.

Buster sighed, he had already been invited to the party earlier this week via Dash and decided he didn't want to go. However, a party with his friends rather than the A-listers sounded more fun. "Come on, this might be exactly what we both need to find that Christmas spirit," Danny prompted, wriggling his eyebrows up and down.

Thinking it over, he nodded his head. "Yeah I'm in," he decided. Tucker cheered, Buster laughed at his excitement. They finished up finding the rest of Danny's scattered items and made their way out the door.

"Hey! How did we all end up carrying your stuff?" Tucker suddenly cried out in realization, "I swear this was all part of your evil plan," he concluded grimly.

Danny let out his best evil laugh as he ran away from Tucker who was attempting to kick snow at him. Buster smiled, sometimes he forgot that he was the younger one.

* * *

Straightening out his expensive sweater that his aunt had bought for him, Buster walked down the stairs to wait for his friends to arrive. It wasn't really his style, but she had been so excited when she gave it to him that he didn't have the heart to reject it. He just hoped he didn't look like a complete dork.

Admittedly, he was feeling a bit nervous. He was going to his first high school party after all, he didn't know what to expect. Sitting down on the couch, Buster was lost in thought and didn't notice the footsteps behind him.

"Last call for that ride!" Dash's voice called out. Startled, Buster whipped his head around to look at his cousin. Standing right behind him, Dash zipped up his coat and waggled his keys invitingly. As tempting as the warm ride sounded, he declined the offer.

"Nah, they're gonna be here in like five minutes," he responded with a wave of his hand. Dash shrugged his shoulders, "suit yourself," he said before walking out the door and into the bitter cold.

Exactly five minutes later, the doorbell chimed. Buster grabbed his coat and walked over to answer it. The chilly wind swept over him instantly as he pulled back the door to reveal Danny and Tucker standing on the steps.

Buster raised his eyebrow when he saw Danny wearing only a thin white t-shirt under an equally thin and unzipped black jacket, 'does this guy ever get cold?' he wondered.

"Hey Buster, you ready?" Danny asked.

Buster nodded, "yup, let's go."

As they headed toward the side walk, Tucker broke the silence. "Remind me again whose crazy idea it was to walk to the party? Doesn't your cousin have a car?"

He questioned desperately. Buster chuckled, "Well yeah, he did offer a ride…but only to me. I thought Sam had a car, why isn't she driving?" he countered.

"It's in the shop," Danny supplied, "she said she'll meet us there, we're less than ten minutes away guys. A little cold won't kill ya."

Tucker shot Danny a nasty look before muttering mostly to himself, "Easy for you to say." Danny just smirked in response.

Buster watched the expression curiously. "Why aren't you cold?" he couldn't help but ask.

Danny just shrugged, "I guess it comes with the Fenton blood."

* * *

The music was loud, almost ear-splitting. It was a wonder the speakers had not given out yet. The moment the heavy door swung shut behind them, the dingy chaotic atmosphere swirled its way around and consumed them whole. Danny's heightened senses went on overdrive, he instantly stiffened. Eyes flickered around the room. Checking all exits, assessing threats.

Noticing his quickened breath and change in demeanor, Tucker placed a tentative hand on Danny's shoulder. "Chill dude, you came here to relax and have fun remember," he said lowly into Danny's ear.

Processing the words, Danny let his muscles relax and gave Tucker a sheepish grin, "Sorry, force a habit." he said. He wasn't sure if Tucker heard him or not, his friend just grinned back.

He looked toward Buster, "you okay?" he shouted. Buster instantly nodded his head and gave him a thumbs up.

"Okay, let's look for Sam then. She texted me a minute ago that she was here, she couldn't have gone far."

"Sounds good," Tucker shouted in approval as he finished placing his coat in the closet. Danny sighed to himself, he tried to remember why the prospect of a party had seemed so appealing to him in the first place. Shouting small talk at the top of his lungs wasn't really on his list of fun things to do.

Looking around, more casually this time, Danny realized he did not recognize half the people there. A lot of the guests looked much older than them, 'probably college kids' he mused.

Thick smoke from a fog machine and flashing lights from all directions assaulted his vision as he tried to find the tiny black haired girl hidden within the crowd. Checking to see if his friends were still with him, his shoulder collided with a stranger. He quickly turned his head to apologize only to run into another.

Utterly frustrated and only a minute into the search, Danny contemplated going ghost and searching from a bird's eye view. It would be much simpler than shoving around the crowd like cattle. Shifting his eyes to make sure no one was watching him, he was about to turn invisible when his gaze landed on a bored girl in the back corner of what seemed to be a dining room.

"Guys, I found her" he informed them as he made his way over. Her eyes lit up when she saw him and she cheerily waved them over. He had known her for years and her behaviour at this time of year still creeped him out.

"Wow Danny, you clean up nice" she said greeting him.

Danny rubbed the back of his neck at the compliment, unsure of how to respond. "Thanks, you look pretty great yourself" he said politely, she smiled.

"Love the sweater Buster!" she said sweetly turning to the two as they finally caught up.

"Thanks," he muttered.

Before she could conjure up a compliment for Tucker, he help up his hand, "Save it Sam, don't even try."

Looking relieved, she laughed. "So…great party huh?" she said sarcastically, finally sounding like her regular self.

Danny sighed, "Don't get me started," he said as he leaned against the wall beside her.

"Come on guys, stop being such party poopers," Tucker pouted, "We just need to find our people."

Danny rolled his eyes, "Tuck, if you haven't noticed, we are your people," he reminded him.

"Well aren't I lucky" he retorted sarcastically, backing up and perching on a corner of the table behind him. Grinning at the comical sadness on Tucker's face, Danny moved his attention over to his strangely quiet friend.

"You sure you okay Buster?" he asked once again.

Buster smiled slightly, "Yeah, just a bit overwhelmed," he admitted, pulling his collar away from his neck.

"Maybe we should get some punch," Danny suggested, putting his hand on Buster shoulder.

"I wouldn't do that," Sam warned, "I saw one of the guys spike it."

Danny made an annoyed face, "Jeez what are we supposed to drink now?" he pouted.

"You don't drink?" Buster asked, he thought all the kids Danny's age drank even if they were still considered underage. He knew for a fact that Dash did.

"Uh, I try to avoid it when I can…It messes with me," Danny explained vaguely, "and I'm responsible enough to not let you drink," he added.

"It's okay, we'll manage" Buster said, consoling him. He wasn't in the mood to try mystery alcohol anyway.

Tucker jumped up off the table and looked around. Spotting something that caught his interest, his eyes widened. "Woah, that is one sick sound system," he marveled. Forgetting all ties to his friends, he made his way over to the DJ to pester him with an array of questions and suggestions.

"Well, we've officially lost him," Danny concluded, taking Tucker's spot on the table and gesturing for Buster to take a seat.

Pulling out a chair, Buster sat down and Sam followed suit. "Maybe Tucker's got the right idea, this is a party after all. We just need to make our own fun," she encouraged.

"What do you think we should do?" Buster asked.

Sam bit her lip in contemplation and cast her eyes around them, Danny followed her gaze. They watched as most of the guests danced in the main room across from them while others were standing in large crowds. Some guys were hollering and running around, throwing a football while toppling things over. There was also a small group playing pool in an adjacent room.

"That looks semi-fun," Sam commented, gesturing over to the game. She turned her head toward them and raised her eyebrow suggestively.

Danny looked over at Buster, making the decision together he looked back at Sam and shook his head. "Nah, you go ahead Sam." She shrugged, got up and sauntered over to the room, disappearing into the smoke.

"And then there were two," he proclaimed theatrically, in a deep voice, eliciting a laugh from his remaining friend. "So, this isn't really your idea of fun either huh?" he prompted, sensing the high level of discomfort rolling off of him.

Buster shot him a side glance, "you could say that," he shrugged, "I didn't really know what I was getting myself into when I agreed to come."

Danny nodded, he couldn't say he had any idea how a real party was like either. His limted experience was always interrupted and overshadowed by irritating ghosts.

Bored out of his mind, Danny got an idea. "Hey let me show you a trick," he said as he picked up a fork and a cloth napkin off the table. "Here you see and ordinary dining fork," he presented, getting into character. Buster chuckled as he straightened up in his seat and watched intently, "I will place this fork right here in front of you, please feel it and tell me. How does it feel?" he asked.

Buster raised an eyebrow but did as he said, "Cold and hard, almost like it really is just an ordinary fork you picked up off the table," he teased.

Unfazed by the skepticism, Danny placed the napkin over the fork, "Tell me, do you still feel it under there?"

Smiling, Buster raised his hand to ensure that the fork was in fact still there. "Yes, I still feel it."

Raising his left arm, Danny waved it in wide circles over the object, "Abracadabra, alakazam….poof." The napkin suddenly lost shape and fell limp around Danny's hand as he smirked up at his shocked friend.

"How…what? Woah, I had no idea you could do that!" Buster exclaimed excitedly, lifting the napkin off in search of the missing object.

Danny chuckled, it was just a little intangibility coupled with invisibility, basic stuff for him. He hadn't used it for magic tricks before though, it was pretty fun. Maybe he could pursue party entertainment as a career. He wouldn't have to worry about getting into college.

He let his thoughts wander as he waited for Buster to stop trying to figure out how he did the trick. Suddenly, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. His skin prickled under the feeling.

He was being watched.

Slowly, careful not to alert the assailant, Danny shifted his body to get a better view around him. Subtlety, he looked around, eyes fixing in the direction he felt the stare radiating from. Unexpectedly, Danny's eyes caught the culprit's, they momentarily locked gazes before the guy looked away. Oddly flushed.

'Why had Dash been watching me so intensely?' Danny wondered. Realizing that he was probably just checking on his cousin, Danny let his guard back down.

Turning his attention back to Buster, who was now practically under the table in search of the still invisible fork. "Hey Buster," he called, holding up the item, now completely solid, out toward him.

"How did you do that?!" Buster exclaimed in pure wonderment that reminded Danny of a five year-old.

"A magician never revels his secrets" he proclaimed.

Getting up, Danny grabbed a bag of chips and gestured for Buster to follow him. They climbed up the long flight of stairs and plopped down at the top. Danny opened the bag and lay down on his back. He looked up at the ceiling and through the skylight, "It's not the best view, but it will have to do" he said as he gestured for Buster to join him.

"You really do love stars, don't you?" Buster asked.

"That I do," Danny responded, through a mouthful of chips.

* * *

Enjoying each other's company, Buster and Danny lost track of time. They talked about anything and everything, laughing obnoxiously as they consumed the whole club size bag of chips that Danny had snagged. Buster had eaten most of it though.

Buster was surprised when he took out his phone and saw that it was past midnight, he had three missed calls from his Aunt and Uncle. Sensing his panic, Danny propped himself up into a sitting position to look over his shoulder. He winced as he spotted the alerts on the screen.

"What should I do?" Buster asked.

Danny raised his shoulders, "ignore the calls and blame Dash," he said nonchalantly.

For a moment Buster stared at him before they both burst into laughter.

"Maybe it is time to go though, let's go find our missing friends." Danny suggested as they both got up and headed down the stairs. Before they reached the bottom, Buster spotted a vaguely familiar girl heading their way.

As they stepped off the last stair, she intercepted their path. "I didn't think you made it! I was getting a bit worried" she exclaimed while batting her unnaturally long lashes, a hand placed delicately on Danny's left shoulder.

Buster stifled a laugh upon noticing the new shade Danny's face adopted. "Well here I am," he surprisingly managed to say as he looked anywhere but at her.

"Hey, the DJ is about to play my favourite song. Do you think you could join me on the dance floor?" She asked silkily. If Danny tried denying her interest in him now, Buster was personally going to bash him over the head with a bat.

Danny looked over at him as if asking for permission, Buster rolled his eyes. "Go, I'll be fine' he said confidently and watched as the last of his friends melted away from sight. "And then there was one," he said to himself grimly.

Sighing, he looked around. Not one direction seemed like a safe option if he didn't want to get lost. Making a decision, he climbed back up a few stairs and sat down. He silently watched the people below him, he couldn't hear the words they were saying so he resorted to filling in the blanks himself. Entertained for the time being, Buster relaxed into the hard wood.

"Enjoying yourself?" a mischievous voice filtered through the noise. It took a moment for Buster to realize the question was directed towards him.

Turning his head in time to see a familiar ginger make his way up the staircase, he scowled. "What do you want, Wes?"

Sitting down, brushing off the hostility, Wes smiled brightly at him. "Oh you know, just wanted to chat. I think we got off on the wrong foot," he said, swiping his hand casually through the air.

Buster really wasn't in the mood to talk to a psycho stalker, the look on his face was sending a chill down his spine. "Well I'm not interested," he dismissed, getting up to his feet to walk away. Maybe Danny was done with his dance, he should probably look for him so they could get home.

A hand grabbed his elbow, "Come one, just give me five minutes?" Wes pleaded, "I promise I won't freak out on you this time."

Giving him a skeptical look, Buster sank back down into his seat. "I doubt it," he muttered to himself. "So what is this really about?" he asked, turning his head to look Wes in the eye.

"Fenton" he answered simply.

Buster rolled his eyes, "what a shocker."

Holding up his arms in defense, "Hey, this is in your best interest. I'm not asking you to rat on your friend. I'm just trying to warn you." he said seriously.

"Warn me?" Buster questioned, "Of what?"

He watched as Wes's eyes glimmered in the rainbow light, "Fenton" he repeated.

Already tired of the conversation, "can you just get to the point?" Buster snapped.

Wes blinked, a sloppy grin appeared on his face making him look like a villain straight out a comic book. "I assume you've noticed, he's not exactly what you would call 'normal'," he emphasized.

"Neither are you," Buster immediately retorted, unable to take the guy seriously. He ran his fingers through his hair and wondered why no one forced him to get any professional help.

Unfazed by the jab, Wes pressed on. "You can't have known him for this long and not see that there's something off about him. He tries to pretend that he's perfect, but I see the lies." His voice raising a few octaves in the end. Rage simmering behind his glazed eyes.

Increasing the distance between them Buster wiped his sweaty palms off on his knees, 'he's drunk' he realized. Taking his silence as a que to continue, "I know you've felt it, it's impossible to be around him and not feel it! Everyone just falls for his innocent act and they ignore the signs." Now that Buster recognised Wes's drunken state, he noticed the words slurring together slightly. The air around them was thick and Wes's presence was suffocating.

"Feel what?" he questioned.

Wes's smile grew unnervingly wide as he leaned in, resting his chin in his palm, he whispered. "He's dangerous."

Buster scoffed despite himself, "You've got to be kidding me. This is Danny you're talking about. The guy helps old ladies cross the street and plays with random kids. He's even nice to Dash…most of the time," he reasoned. Wes didn't know Danny as well as he did, he was one of the nicest people Buster had ever met.

The smile slipped off of Wes's sweaty face, his eyes hardened. "Don't be so naïve, things aren't always as black and white as you think they are." The steel in his voice caught Buster off guard, and for a moment Wes seemed genuinely afraid but it quickly was replaced with raw fury.

"I've never even seen him hurt a fly," he weakly protested.

A dark humorous gleam shimmered in the ginger's eyes and he leaned further in. His lips beside Buster's ear, he whispered, "you should see what he did to my phone."

Buster could smell the alcohol in his breath, it made his stomach churn. He gulped for air, it was becoming harder to breath. He moved further away from the intoxicated teen, back pressed against the banister. Wes had him pinned under a searching stare, waiting. Buster forced himself to meet his gaze, unable to find words to reply, his mouth remained slightly agape.

"Wes? Hey Buddy! How have you been?" A familiar cheery voice called out.

At the sound, the boy in front of him flinched. Fear seeped through his clouded eyes, swirling with recognition. Wes lowered his eyebrows, putting on a false face of bravado, he turned to the new arrival. "I'm not you're buddy Fenton," he spat. He raised himself off the step and attempted to dramatically stomp down, but tripped over his feet.

"Woah, easy there" Danny said as he caught the fall.

Wes pushed Danny's hand off of his shoulders, "Don't touch me," he cautioned.

"You planning on driving home Wes?" Danny asked after getting a good look at the boy, "I could call you a cab."

Wes narrowed his eyes, "cut the act Fenton," he growled, "I'm hitching a ride with Logan so get off my back." With one final look in Buster's direction, he stalked away.

Buster looked at Danny who stood smiling in Wes' direction and shook his head, 'Wes thinks this guy is dangerous?' For a moment Buster had almost believed him.

Hoisting himself up he came to stand beside his friend, "Ready to find the others?"

Nodding at the suggestion, Danny gave him a grim smile, "Talk about mission impossible," he quipped before they navigated their way through the crowd.

* * *

The sound of boots against pavement echoed off the building walls in the empty street. The night was silent, a stark contrast to the commotion of the party. It was officially Christmas Eve, the ghosts were now bound by the truce. The one day of the year where Danny was allowed to fully relax. He breathed in the cool air, savouring the fresh smell of winter. 'Maybe Christmas isn't all bad,' he thought.

They were walking away from Sam's place, headed towards Buster's. Tucker had suggested a short cut through the sketchy part of town. Danny and Tucker were pretty familiar with the area, so he agreed. Besides, there was no one outside at this time of night.

"Guess what?" Tucker asked elatedly, "I've got a date this Saturday."

Danny looked at his best friend in astonishment, "the Foley charm finally worked its magic on some poor soul?" Tucker shot him a dirty glare to which Danny and Buster snickered. Danny waved his hand, "I'm just teasing dude, I'm happy for you. Who's the lucky girl?"

"Remember Rebecca from ninth grade Science? We exchanged phone numbers just before we left," he said, a huge smile plastered across his face.

"That's great man" Buster congratulated before he mischievously looked over at Danny. "What about you?" he asked.

"What about me?" Danny repeated obliviously.

"The dance? The pretty girl? How'd that go?" Buster clarified.

"Woah, hold up! You were dancing with a pretty girl?" Tucker exclaimed, "And it wasn't Sam?"

Glaring at both of them, Danny raised his hands, "I've told you a million times, I don't see Sam as anything more than a friend."

Tucker giggled, "Yeah, Yeah I know. So…the dance…" he said as he waggled his eyebrows.

Sighing, Danny put his hands in his jacket pockets. "The girl who invited us, Eva, she asked me to dance. I danced," he said dismissively.

Tucker whistled, "A senior? Dude," patting him on the back.

Smiling shyly, Danny turned his attention to Buster. "Hey, I forgot to ask. What did Wes want?" he inquired innocently enough, admittedly he was a bit concerned. Buster looked strangely frazzled by the question.

Scratching his head, "Wes? Oh he was too drunk to really say much," he said, his voice a few octaves higher.

Danny watched him fidget with his coat sleeve. Buster was lying. Danny had extensive experience in the lying department, he could pick it up pretty well. It didn't hurt that Buster was a terrible liar. Narrowing his eyes he wondered why Buster would lie to him. Wes had obviously been talking about Danny. No doubt. However, Buster didn't look like he just found out Danny's biggest secret…

Danny was about to call him out on the lie when a hooded figure stepped out from an alley, positioning himself in front of them. Instantly stopping in his tracks, Danny straitened his back, stiffened his muscles and protectively positioned his arms on either side of him, in front of his friends. "Hands up where I can see them," the figure rasped.

Human. Teenager. Not much older than them, Danny noted. "And if we don't," he asked defiantly.

The guy pulled something out from his pocket, holding it out in front of him, "I'll shoot."

Silently observing, Danny glanced at his arms. Shaking. His voice was unconfident. He probably needed money.

He shot Tucker a sideways glance as he made his decision. No ghost powers. Fenton would suffice. Communicating his plan through their eyes, they nodded slightly at each other. Tucker held out his arm behind Danny and grabbed the back of a shaking Buster's coat. He swiftly pulled him, positioning them both behind Danny. "Hey! No moving! Hands in the air or I'll shoot," the attacker commanded.

"What do you want from us?" Danny asked confidently, in an almost bored voice, taking a step forward.

He watched the guy attempt to steady his hold on the gun, "I know a bunch of rich kids when I see 'em. Give me all your cash," he gritted.

Chuckling, Danny shook his head, "You've got it all wrong dude. We're just as broke as you, so if you could just let us get by, that would be great," taking another step towards the guy.

"Danny, stop," Buster's frightened voice whispered from behind him.

He was close enough to the assailant now that he could make out his features from under the shadows of the hood. He looked terrible, Danny felt almost sorry for him. However, he knew that giving him money wouldn't really be the end of the problem, there was still a possibility that he would shoot after the fact. To clear his tracks. "Look, just empty out your pockets and quit the yapping. I'm serious, I'll shoot," the guy stated, his voice sounding slightly more confident. He was angry.

"I believe ya man, we just don't have anything to give you," Danny said as he trained his eyes straight at the gun. He briefly flicked his eyes over his shoulder and then up at the guy's face. Positioning his body correctly, he lifted up his right leg and struck.

In one dizzying instance, the guy fumbled backwards. The gun flipped up in the air. Jumping, Danny swiped it. Quickly held it out in front of him, skillfully pointed at the mugger.

Danny's eyes darkened as he slowly approached the now cowering teen. Fear ignited from within the depths of his soul and shone through his pupils as he stared at Danny's approaching form. Lifting the gun up, Danny held it against his pale forehead and turned off the safety. Taking a moment to glare menacingly, Danny leaned in and whispered into the teen's ear. "I guess you don't know 'em as well as you thought, huh?"

The guy didn't say a word, his eyelids slid down as he tightly shut his eyes. He stood there in silent prayer as if accepting his impending death. Taking pity on the boy, Danny withdrew the gun, but didn't move his body. The boy's eyes shot open, peering questioningly at Danny. Giving him a dark, sideways grin, he nodded his head forward, "Get out of here." Wasting no time, the teen took a few steps back before turning and bolting.

Danny laughed at the sight, looked down at the gun before emptying out the bullets. Chucking them into the alley's dumpster he held up his knee, brought down the weapon and snapped it in two. Ignoring the gasp from behind him, he threw the broken pieces in with the bullets before turning around. Tucker instantly high-fived him, unfazed by the events that just unfolded, but one look at Buster and Danny knew that he was a completely different story.


	8. Chapter 8: He's Dangerous

Thrumming his fingers against his desk, his cheek resting in his other hand, Buster considered his best friend's words. Looking at him through the computer screen, "I don't know Arthur, it's just really hard to believe," he groaned.

Arthur adjusted his glasses as he leaned back in his chair, "you did say yourself that you thought he was strange the first time you met him," he reminded him.

"Yeah, but funny strange not scary strange," Buster countered, frustrated with this whole situation.

Sighing, Arthur raised his legs up on the chair, resting his chin on his knees, "So what changed?" he prompted, patiently talking Buster through his muddled thoughts.

Waving his arms around wildly, irritated, "didn't you hear me? He snapped a gun in half! Like it was nothing! How is that even possible?" he exclaimed, memory of that night flashing before his eyes. Buster had been sure they were going to die when Danny started to provoke the gunman. He was overcome with shock when the gun was suddenly in his friend's hands, held up against the guy's head. For one excruciatingly long terrifying moment, Buster thought he would shoot. He was poised as if he had done it before, like he was comfortable holding a gun to someone's head.

"I honestly don't know," Arthur admitted, snapping him back to reality from the traumatic memory. Buster closed his eyes, took in a deep breath to calm his nerves.

"He's a good person Arthur. I'm sure of it," he weakly defended, more to himself than to Arthur, "but the look on his face when he held the gun to the guy's head…" He was talking himself in circles, he realized. Maybe Wes was just getting to his head, Danny wasn't dangerous.

"Buster you have to consider the fact that you haven't known him that long. People aren't always what they seem," Arthur stated, wisely. Buster knew he was right. He wished he wasn't.

"Yeah….but he did it to protect us," he protested, wishing he could just accept that simple fact and ignore the other signs.

"That's true," Arthur hummed, biting his lip. He wasn't convinced.

Pressing his fingers against his throbbing temples, "But, how did he know how to use a gun?" he wondered aloud.

"Beats me," Arthur shrugged, still in his crouched position. Silently studying Busters conflicting emotions flash across his face.

"Where do you think he goes when he runs off all the time?" Buster asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Buster, I don't know him. I can't help you there," His best friend said apologetically.

He bit his lip, remembering each apology text Danny sent him over the months. He was always so sincere. "…Sometimes he comes back with bruises. He keeps a first aid kit in his locker. He tries to hide them, but I notice," he admitted, whispering the end.

Letting his legs down, Arthur straightened up, his expression turning grim. "I hate to say it…"

"I know," Buster whispered.

"It makes sense Buster," he reasoned, sympathetically.

Buster nodded, he understood what Arthur meant. "I…it should make sense…but it somehow doesn't."

There was a long silence as Arthur let him digest. "Why don't you talk to your cousin about it," he suggested, "didn't you say he was the one who warned you in the beginning?"

Buster leaned back, rubbed his left eye. "Yeah, but they've never really been friends," he replied tiredly.

"Well then, you can get a new perspective," Arthur proposed. It was a smart idea, he didn't really know much about why the rumors started in the first place. If he was trying to get to the bottom of this, knowing the facts was important. Even if they came from unreliable sources.

Smiling slightly at his caring and supportive friend, he nodded. "You're right, thanks Arthur."

With a flick of the wrist, "anytime," he smiled back.

Taking a moment to collect himself, he ran his fingers through his hair. Forcing the thoughts out of his head for the time being he grinned, "So, anything interesting happen at Muffy's party this year?"

Arthur rolled his eyes, "don't even get me started."

* * *

Tiptoeing his way down the stairs, Buster headed towards the basement. He knew his cousin would be down there at this time, he always worked out in the makeshift weight-room. He could hear the scrape of metal on metal as he got closer. The heavy smell of sweat hung in the air. Peering through the open door frame, he hesitantly called out, "Dash?"

Positioned under the bench press, Dash glanced at him from the corner of his eye. "Yeah"

"Are you busy?" Buster asked, taking a step forward into the room.

Without looking at him, Dash continued lifting. "Not really," he grunted, "why?"

"I wanted to talk to you," Buster replied as he made his way over to the boy, taking a seat on the stationary bicycle across from him.

"Shoot," Dash prompted coolly.

Buster watched his ministrations with great interest. Up and down, up and down. Scrape, screech, scrape, screech. His throat felt dry. He swallowed audibly and took in a deep breath. "Remember when you told me that Danny wasn't a good person? Why do you think that?" He questioned.

The scraping halted for a second, Dash spared him a small look. "I told you, he's on drugs." Scrape, screech, scrape, screech.

"But that doesn't make you a bad person," Buster pressed, "half of your friends were under the influence of something or another at the party." Drugs was not a good enough explanation. Majority of high schoolers are 'on drugs' at some point. It simply did not fit the puzzle, Danny was much more complicated than that.

Dash grunted, slightly irritated by the argument. "He's just not a good person anymore okay?"

Wrinkling his forehead, Buster regarded his cousin. He didn't really have much of an argument, but he seemed so sure. "Anymore?" he probed, "when did he change?"

Sighing loudly, Dash was quiet for a few seconds as if turning his memories around in his head. "Sometime in freshman year, I didn't notice it at first," he finally answered.

"Notice what?" Buster pressed on, irritated by the vagueness.

Scrape, screech, scrape, screech… Dash didn't reply. Continuing his workout as if he hadn't heard Buster. Then the screeching stopped, Dash sat up on the bench and wiped his forehead. He stared at him before speaking. "The cuts and bruises. The swollen knuckles. The increase in muscle. The snarky back talk. The boost of confidence…" he listed, trailing off. An odd look in his eyes.

"What was he like before?" Buster inquired curiously.

Surprisingly, Dash smiled. It was small and nostalgic. "Shy, quiet. Small and very clumsy," he informed him. "I guess he was always snarky though," he added as an afterthought, his eyes gleaming with amusement. Buster smiled at the description, it was remarkably easy to picture his friend that way. Suddenly, the expression was dropped. Dash frowned. A strange sadness formed upon his features, as if mourning a great loss. Buster bit his lip, mulling over the millions of questions in his head.

"Do you think he's dangerous?" he finally asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Dash ran his fingers through his sweaty hair and got up of the bench. Grabbing a towel, he dried off and hung it around his neck. Leaning against the wall, he crossed his arms. "I think he could be," he revealed. Buster was surprised by the confession, and utterly confused.

"Then why do you still pick on him?" he interrogated incredulously.

Dash instantly opened his mouth in defense, but shut it just a quickly. He looked down at his feet, scratching his head, "I…force of habit."

Unable to withhold the information any longer, "he knows how to shoot a gun," Buster blurted. Eyes quickly darted towards him, wide. Eyebrows raised, mouth agape, Dash pushed himself off the wall. Buster found the courage to look him in the eye and winced at the shocked expression.

"Buster, what is this about? Is he okay?" Dash inquired desperately, fear and worry laced in his unsteady voice.

Buster started at the burst of emotion and quickly nodded, "Yeah, he's not hurt." They watched each other intently, the intense worry melted from Dash's eyes at his words. Overcome with a sudden realization, Buster tilted his head in astonishment. Dash actually cared about Danny. A lot.

"Are you okay?" Dash asked, eyeing him critically.

Buster looked away, "I'm not sure," he disclosed honestly. He wasn't really any closer to figuring Danny out. He hated to admit it, but he did not know what to think of the boy anymore. Was Danny really a bad person?

As if reading his mind, Dash came over and swung his large arm around Buster's shoulders. Ruffling his blonde hair, "Buster, Fentina will never make sense to you. Believe me."

* * *

Arm back, legs bent and back crouched, Danny swung the heavy ball forward with pristine precision. A cheer erupted around him as he pumped his fist up in the air. Another strike. His game had garnered quite a large crowd.

Smugly, Danny strolled back to the seats, high-fiving Tucker on the way. It felt good to win. Attempting to keep up the cool act, Danny turned to give a small salute to his 'fans' only to trip over his own feet. He quickly caught himself before he could land flat on his face and sat down, cheeks red.

Sam snickered, "nice one," she said sarcastically. Danny stuck his tongue out at her and crossed his arms, leaning back in embarrassment.

His blue eyes wandered over to the boy situated across from him. Buster was being oddly distant, he had hardly looked at him much less talked to him since they got there. "Hey Buster?" he called out.

The boy glanced up at him, "Yeah?"

Danny surveyed him for a second, he seemed fine. He didn't look sick or tired. "You having fun?" he asked. The boy merely nodded before turning back to Sam. Danny scrunched up his face as he watched him turn away, had he done something wrong? He was baffled, what could he have done?

"Danny, this is probably your best game yet!" Tucker exclaimed as he returned, grinning widely.

Danny looked up at him and mirrored his expression, "thanks man."

Sitting down, Tucker threw his arms around the back of the seats and lowered his voice. "You sure you're not…you know," he asked discreetly, gesturing gaudily.

Smirking, Danny raised his eyebrow questioningly, "What? Using ghost powers?"

Tucker narrowed his eyes at Danny mischievous expression "…yeah."

Shrugging, the smirk still on his lips, Danny turned and looked forward, "I guess you'll never know." He was just teasing, he wasn't really using his powers. Unless you count the strength, but he couldn't just turn that off.

"That's so not fair," Tucker whined, arms crossed as he sulked.

Giggling, Danny put his arm around his friend. "I didn't ask for the ghost life, the ghost life chose me," he theatrically stated.

"Har Har," Tucker mock laughed, shoving his arm off of his shoulders.

Giggling louder, Danny nudged him in the ribs, "Quit being such a sore loser."

Not responding, Tucker let his arms fall back down and leaned back. A small smile on his face, indicating he was already over the bout of resentment.

Buster returned from his turn, gave Sam a high-five and sat back down as she walked away. A shrill sound suddenly went off from his pocket, he fished out his phone and strolled off to answer it. As Danny watched him leave, he bit his lip deep in thought.

"Do you think Buster's been acting weird?" he said, turning to Tucker who was fiddling with his PDA.

"No, he seems fine to me," he responded distractedly.

Danny hummed, "have you talked to him since the party?" he asked. Tucker looked up at him, put down his device and thought.

"…not really, we've been pretty busy." he finally replied, recalling the week long mission they had been subjected to. Things had gotten nasty, they had faced powerful ghosts they hadn't even heard of. Vlad, of course, was at the center of the problem.

Unconsciously placing an arm over the mostly healed slash across his abdomen, "don't remind me," Danny groaned.

Tucker placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder as he noticed the movement. "I'm sure he's fine, don't worry so much," he said reassuringly as they watched him and Sam return simultaneously. It was Danny's turn again.

Half an hour later, they sat in a cozy booth of a small coffee shop that they hardly ever went to. The smell of fresh coffee and donuts wafted through the air. Danny took a sip of his drink only to quickly pull it away as it burnt his tongue.

"I can't believe we only have three days left of break," Sam complained, popping a piece of her vegan biscuit into her mouth.

Alarmed, "What! Aw man, it feels like it just started. We deserve more," Danny protested. He never had a proper vacation. Vlad really owed him this time.

"Yeah, after that huge ghost invasion I would think they would add a few more days," Buster stated. Danny looked up at him in mild surprise. That was the first real sentence he had spoken to him.

"Ah, but you have not been in Amity Park for long my friend, 'Ghost invasion' is sadly not an excuse anymore." Tucker informed him, an exaggerated frown on his face.

Placing his chin in his palm, Buster looked curious. "So that happens often?" he inquired.

"At least twice a year," Danny snorted in response. He blew at his boiling coffee, Buster was acting pretty normal. Maybe he had been overreacting this whole time.

Shifting his eyes to look at him, Buster asked, "Are your parents alright? I saw them on the news."

Danny smiled at the genuine concern, "Yeah, only a few scratches really. Not much can keep a Fenton down." He replied proudly, his parents had considerably improved. They had actually proved to be quite helpful.

"God, you sound like your dad," Sam grumbled as she rolled her eyes at him. They all laughed at the face Danny made in response, he couldn't help but join in. They talked comfortably for a while longer. All doubts about Buster were forgotten, he was just being paranoid. Tucker was right for once.

"Dash is nearby, said he'll come over and give me a ride home. You guys want to come?" Buster offered as their curfew approached.

"Nah, we'll walk." Tucker declined, "Besides, Dash would never agree to that."

"Neither would I," Sam mumbled as a disgusted look appeared upon her gloomy features.

Once spotting Dash's car pull up a few moments later, they headed outside together. Walking up behind him, Danny placed a hand on Buster's shoulder to say goodbye. Flinching, Buster quickly moved away from under his grip.

Danny stepped back, hand frozen in place. Was Buster afraid of him?

His stomach flipped, his throat went dry. His mind instantly raced, Wes told Buster that he was a ghost, he concluded. Buster believed him. He hated him now.

But…Buster was friends with Phantom. Why would he be afraid?

Suddenly, his mind flashed to the last time they were together. The night of the party, the walk home. Buster had been shaking but insisted he was okay. Danny had believed him. They had walked him home pretending like nothing happened.

How could he have been so stupid?

Buster waved, "Bye guys," he said, smiling uncomfortably, as he pulled open the passenger door. Danny caught a glimpse of Dash glaring at him before he peeled away.

Danny groaned, he had really screwed up this time. Buster probably thought he was some sort of murderer or gang leader by now. Great.


	9. Chapter 9: Hope

Shifting anxiously in his seat, eyes directed towards the double doors, Danny waited. His hands were clammy, heart thudded loudly in his chest. Thoughts spun around in his head.

What was he going to say to him? How was he supposed to explain himself?

"Danny would you quit it, what's the matter with you," Sam interrupted, glaring at his bouncing leg.

"Huh?" he replied without turning to look at her irritated face.

"You're acting weird, did something happen?" She asked, her voice softening slightly.

Danny tore his eyes away from the door, "Did you guys see Buster at all today?" he inquired, completely ignoring her concern.

Tucker rolled his eyes, "dude, you still worried about him? He seemed completely fine to me."

Of course he was worried. Buster thought that he was some freaky gun-wielding lunatic. He was afraid of him. Sadly, the truth wasn't much better. There wasn't anything he could say to clear his name that wouldn't sound completely crazy. The least he could do was apologize for traumatizing him.

He had gone to park two nights in a row hoping he could talk it out as Phantom, try and understand before really confronting him, but Buster hadn't shown up. He contemplated calling him but lost the nerve. He just didn't know what to say. What do you say to a kid that you scarred for life?

Finally resolving to apologize to him in-person at lunch, Danny sat on their bench awaiting his arrival. Time ticked on, leg bobbed up and down, Sam's scowl deepened. Buster didn't come.

Abruptly, Danny got out of his seat, picked up his uneaten food and flung it into the trash. Ignoring his friend's questions, he marched over to the A-list table and stood beside the older Baxter.

Before he could open his mouth, Dash gave him a narrowed side-ways glare. "What do you want Fenturd," he spat.

Danny was impressed, he was expecting to at least have food thrown at him for venturing into forbidden territory. "Uh, I just wanted to know if Buster came to school today," he asked, suddenly feeling nervous under the glare.

Dash narrowed his eyes further and let him squirm. Finally he turned his head away from Danny, picked up his sandwich and replied, "he said he wasn't feeling well."

Danny stood there for a few seconds longer until he realized the interaction was over. Turning awkwardly, mumbling an inaudible, "thanks," he walked back to Sam and Tucker.

"What was that all about?" Sam asked, crossing her arms as he slumped back down onto the bench.

"Uh, nothing. I just wanted to know where Buster was. That's all," he said, trying to appear casual.

Fixing him under a scrutinizing gaze, "you're panicking," she concluded.

Tucker looked at her and then back at him and nodded, "I agree, you don't look so good man."

Suddenly feeling defensive, Danny furrowed his eyes. "I'm fine," he emphasized.

"But I want to know why, did Buster say something to you? Did you do something to him?" She inquired, gaze unwavering.

Danny threw up his arms, "I didn't do anything to him!" he exclaimed. Sam raised her eyebrow, a smirk forming on her lips. God, she was infuriating sometimes.

Before she could dig any further, he got up and stomped out. Quickly checking his surroundings, he transformed and flew up into the ceiling. Relishing the contrasting warmth of the sun with the stark chill of the winter air, he glided aimlessly above the rooftops.

He needed to clear his head.

* * *

Resting his knees onto the brittle remnants of the grass, Danny peered at the body lying in front of him. "You awake?" he softly asked.

Glancing at him with one eye, "yeah," Buster mumbled but made no further movements. An icy breeze swirled softly around them. Danny held his breath as he crossed his legs and sat, silence hanging heavy in the air.

"Isn't it still a little too cold to be sleeping under the open sky?" he commented as he observed the small boy.

He shrugged the best that he could from his position. "I guess so, but I was waiting for you."

Danny bit his bottom lip, it was now or never. "You feeling better?" he inquired, trying to ease casually into the conversation that he had carefully planned in his head.

"Huh?" Buster asked, confused, he gently pushed himself up into a seated position.

"You didn't show up for school today" Danny quickly clarified.

The confusion remained on his face as he watched Danny's ghostly features. "How did you know?" he asked slowly, eyes slightly narrowed in suspicion.

Damn, he messed up again. Buster was surprisingly excellent at catching his slips. Quickly coming up with a logical excuse, "uh…Danny told me," he decided.

"Oh," he nodded, accepting the statement. Buster looked away from him, fixing his eyes straight ahead, seemingly deep in thought.

Talking a deep breath, Danny continued. "Buster, are you mad at him?" He finally asked, getting to the point. He wasn't exactly ready for the answer but he needed to know. It was eating at him.

Shaking his head at the question, "No, why would I be?" Buster said offhandedly.

Startled out of his train of thought, Danny stared at the boy. He seemed upset, there was not a hint of a smile on his face. Was he lying to him? "Well, he was telling me about Christmas eve…" Danny trailed off, trying to provoke a reaction.

Realization crossed the boy's eyes, as if the incident had been the farthest thing in his mind. He scratched his head before looking back at Danny, "Oh, no I'm not mad. Confused, a little terrified, but not mad. He did save us after all," he concluded maturely.

Danny sat dumbfounded, his shoulders unconsciously relaxed as he processed his friend's words. He wasn't mad at him. He didn't hate him. He had been scared…but he was okay. It didn't magically make what he did better, but a sliver of the immense guilt lifted. They were still friends.

Danny couldn't help but smile slightly. Rubbing his neck in mild embarrassment, "I see…he wanted to apologize either way," he said sincerely. He would apologize properly as Fenton later. It was the least he could do.

Buster hummed in response, "you guys are pretty close huh?" he asked a few moments later.

Danny snorted at the absurdity of the question. 'More than you'll ever know,' he thought to himself with a secret chuckle. He nodded and Buster turned back to staring out in front of him. Danny floated up slightly off the ground, resting his elbow on his crossed knee, he regarded the boy. There was something bothering him.

"So, what's wrong then?" he asked abruptly, shaking Buster out of his reverie.

"How do you know something's wrong?" he countered, carefully pulling up his guard.

Danny tilted his head playfully and smiled, "well when someone skips school when they are in perfect health and then sneaks out to go talk to a ghost, I'd assume something was up." He watched Buster shift under the accusation. Something was definitely wrong. His smile disappeared, replaced with a worried frown.

"I'm fine," the boy half-heartedly insisted. Already aware that he had lost the battle.

"Buster," Danny sternly urged, "look at me." He complied after a long silence, eyes brimmed with threatening tears. Danny's face softened, he placed a supporting hand on his shoulder.

"I just…I don't know how to deal with it anymore," Buster finally admitted, breathing out heavily. He lay back down onto the cold ground and shut his eyes tightly. A small tear leaking out.

"With what?" he prompted, knowing full well that Buster probably didn't want to talk about it. But, Danny knew that keeping it bottled up wasn't the right solution to whatever the boy was dealing with. He needed to talk to someone. Who better to listen than a ghost?

"I miss my mom," Buster whispered softly. If it wasn't for Danny's heightened hearing, he would have missed it.

Floating back down, Danny lay down beside him. "Tell me about her," he kindly encouraged.

"I…she was my best friend," he choked. Tears no longer confined, silently flowed down the sides of his face. A broken smile formed on his lips, "we had fun together; secret handshakes, fake holidays, silly nicknames…I couldn't imagine my life without her." He paused, taking in a shaky breath, he brought up his hand to wipe his face.

"What happened?" Danny asked curiously, careful to keep his voice soothing.

Buster closed his eyes. "One year ago today, she disappeared."

FLASHBACK

Stepping through the door, he waved at the car, watching them drive off. Buster turned the lock behind him and shivered. The warmth of the house embraced him as he removed his winter coat and allowed his frozen face to melt.

Dropping his luggage onto the floor, "Mom! I'm back!" he called out, pulling his feet out of his heavy boots.

He had really missed her. Skiing at a lodge on a weekend trip with Arthur's family and his other friends was amazingly fun, but he never liked spending too much time away from her. He was looking forward to spending some time together before school started up again.

Eagerly, he walked into the kitchen and looked around. She wasn't there.

That wasn't really concerning in itself, she could have been upstairs. Or she might have been out, but Buster stiffened. His heart started racing, his breathing became laboured. Something was wrong.

It was just a horrible feeling deep in his gut. He wished with all his might that he was wrong; however, the moment he stepped into the kitchen, he knew.

An eerie silence filled the room, the humming of the fridge and the constant ticking of the wall clock faded. He backed away, feet pounding up the stairs. "Mom! I'm home!"

There was no reply.

The silence followed him like a thick fog, it was becoming hard to breath. His laboured breaths and pounding heart were the only sound resonating in his ears as he frantically searched every corner of the little town house.

Searching for a sign, a simple note indicating she was okay, anything, he tore apart the whole house. But he found nothing.

Feet pounded down the stairs, he threw open the door and stared outside. Her car was missing. How hadn't he noticed that before?

He pulled out his phone, sitting down numbly in the living room. He dialed her cell number. No answer. He dialed her office number. No answer. He dialed Harry's numbers. He hadn't seen her. He called everyone he could think of. No one knew where she was.

His heart sank but he refused to believe she wasn't going to walk through the door any minute, a bag of takeout in her hands.

He didn't move, he sat on the couch, staring at the door. The pounding of his heart slowly subsided as the ticking clock overpowered his senses. The seconds ticked by, then minutes, then hours.

Buster didn't know when he fell asleep.

When he awoke, for a split second, everything was okay.

He looked around, the small smile on his face slipped, a heavy feeling of dread spread throughout his body. The house was quiet. The previous warmth had completely dissipated, a strange chill wormed its way in. Time stood still.

He didn't know how long he sat there, unable to move. A sudden sound startled him out of his trance. He looked down. It was his stomach, he had skipped dinner.

Slowly he sat up out of the couch, walked upstairs and brushed his teeth. Mechanically, he pulled out a box of cereal and ate a bowl full. He was clearing the table when a knock echoed through the house.

He dropped the bowl, it shattered on the tiles by his feet, but he didn't notice. Hesitantly, he walked over to the door. His hand hovered over the door knob, another knock sounded. Louder this time. Turning the knob, he flung the door open.

It wasn't her.

Harry Mills stood in the doorway instead, eyes fixed in worry.

"Buster, are you alright?" he asked, kneeling down to look him straight in the eye.

Tears sprang into his eyes, "I don't know where she is. She didn't come home," he choked.

Pulling him into a tight hug, Harry ran a soothing hand down his back. "Did you call the police?" he asked softly.

Pulling away, Buster wiped his tears. "No, I thought she'd be back by now." Harry got back up, placed a firm hand on his shoulder and directed them back into the house. Taking out his phone, he pushed in three numbers and placed it against his ear.

Buster stopped paying attention. It was too much, it was becoming real. She couldn't be gone. She couldn't be hurt. She had to be okay. She just had to be.

* * *

Pacing around the small bedroom, Buster counted his breaths. Back and forth, in and out. One, two, three… "Buster, everything's going to be alright. Just sit down," Arthur pleaded as he watched Buster's nervous behaviour from his own bed.

It had been 8 hours since the police started their search, they hadn't heard a single thing yet. How could anything be alright? Buster wanted to punch the wall. He wanted lay on the floor and laugh hysterically. He wanted to curl up and sob. But all he did was walk. Back and forth, Back and forth.

"You should eat something," Arthur tried.

As if on cue, Buster's stomach growled loudly, his hand instinctively covering it. "I can't, I'll throw it up if I eat," he explained quietly.

Sighing, Arthur got up from his bed and placed himself in front of Buster. Putting both hands on his shoulders, he forced him to stop pacing.

"Whatever happens, I'll always be here for you."

* * *

They found her car. Two days after she was reported missing, her car turned up parked at the edge of town. There was no sign of foul play, windows were intact. Locks weren't tampered with. Her keys were still in the ignition, her purse in the passenger seat. A bag of takeout beside it.

Yet, she was still missing.

Arthur and Buster stood, ears to the wall as Harry and Arthur's parents talked to the two officers in the Read's living room. They had no leads. There was absolutely no evidence found in the car or at the house. It was as if she just vanished.

"This is a very peculiar case," they heard an officer say, "not a single eye witness, not a shred of evidence, not a clue. We are trying our best here, but there is only so much we can do."

Buster's breath hitched as his mind whirled to life. Something about what the officer had said clicked.

His mom's recent article that she had been tirelessly investigating had been about missing persons. Hundreds of people from across the country. Not a shred of evidence. It was as if they had vanished.

Buster had been trying to convince his mom that they had been abducted by aliens. It was the only logical explanation. She had laughed at his sense of logic and kissed his cheek, telling him how cute he was.

He backed away, eyes wide. Arthur noticed his sudden movement and turned his head to look at him. Without any indication, Buster turned at his heel and ran out of the house.

Moments later Arthur caught up, gripping his shoulder to halt his maniacal sprint. "Buster! What are you doing!" he yelled, trying to catch his breath.

Buster met his eyes, and wildly waved his hands. "I know what happened!" he yelled, trying to get free.

Arthur pulled him back, "Tell me then," he said calmly.

Buster stopped his struggling and licked his dry lips. "I need to get to the car, the police don't know what to look for." he said, trying not to sound too rushed.

Arthur gave him a quizzing look, "Please elaborate," he asked. Buster closed his eyes in frustration, he knew Arthur wasn't going to believe him. But, this time, Buster was right. He knew it, they got her.

"Aliens. The police won't be able to tell," he whispered. Arthur didn't say anything, Buster kept his eyes closed and tried to free his shoulder but to no avail. He finally opened his eyes to meet his best friend's. He was surprised to find tears forming in the corners.

"Buster," he said quietly, "don't do this to yourself."

Slumping his shoulders Buster fell to his knees. "You don't understand, she was getting too close. I have to do something."

Arthur sank down on the side walk with him, wrapped his arms around Buster and cried. His own eyes welled up, shoulders began to unwillingly shake as unrelenting sobs tore through his throat.

* * *

There was a knock on his door, he could barely hear it over the whir of his computer. "Come in!" he shouted.

Walking in, his dad stepped over the various piles of books and papers. His research. "Hey buddy, just wanted to check if you're all packed," he said, voice trying to sound cheery as he stood behind him. Buster nodded, his bags were already downstairs. He was staying over at Arthur's again since his dad had to get back to work. He had offered to take him along, but Buster had missed enough school.

For the past three months, Arthur's house had become more of a home to him than this one. At least when he was there he had some distraction. Arthur tried his best to bring a sense of normalcy back into his life. Here, her presence lingered in every corner.

Here, he lost himself to his research. Alien sighting, abductions, conspiracy theories, you name it. Buster had read it. He even called up a few professionals across the globe. Talked to individuals who claimed to have been abducted, but he was getting nowhere. Every lead turned up cold.

The police were no help, the case was still open, but Buster knew they were no longer trying. He just had to keep digging, she was counting on him.

* * *

It was past midnight, Arthur would be sleeping. But he couldn't wait. Jogging the familiar path to his friend's house, still dressed in pajamas, Buster's heart pounded.

This was it, he finally had something.

Turning through the gate, Buster picked up a pebble and threw it at Arthur's window. Moments later, it slid open. "Buster? What's wrong?" Arthur asked in a panicked voice.

"Shh!" he said, placing a finger against his lips, "come down."

He sat down on the steps as he waited for the front door to open, flipping through the stapled printout in his hands.

"What's up?" Arthur warily inquired as he sat down beside him.

Buster waved the papers in his face. "I finally found something!" he explained excitedly. Arthur bit his lip as he stared at him, searching his face. Buster ignored the look and directed his attention to his findings.

"It's a way to contact the aliens, it's theoretical but I think it might work" he started, "There's step by step instructions on how to build the device." He didn't turn to look at Arthur's expression, but he heard the small sad sigh.

"Buster"

"It seems a little complicated, but I'm sure Brain would help if I asked really nicely," he stated as he flipped to a blueprint, the words on the page were making him dizzy.

"Buster"

"We could use the treehouse as a base since we don't really go up there anymore." Scratching his chin at the idea, 'it would have to do' he thought. It was a little old and broken down but he would work with what he could get.

"Buster"

"I don't have much money for the parts but I can ask my Dad for some, maybe Muffy can help," he said, running his finger through the extensive list.

"Buster! Snap out of it." Arthur yelled, startling him out of his frenzied musings. Buster turned to look at the boy, his eyes were glazed as if he was holding back tears. There was an aged sadness resting within them.

Putting the papers down, "Arthur, I have to try," he stated stubbornly. He was so close.

"This isn't going to work, your mom was not abducted by aliens. You're driving yourself insane!" His best friend screamed, getting up to his feet, arms gesturing wildly.

Buster felt a piercing pain in his gut. He jumped up off the step with a surge of anger, "She was!" he screamed back, "Why can't you just believe me, what kind of friend are you anyway?"

Taking a deep breath, "no she wasn't," Arthur said calmly. He placed his hands on Buster's shoulders and looked him straight in the eyes, "your mom was taken by humans. The police connected it to an existing case. She's gone, you need to move on. Please."

No, they were wrong.

Jerking the hands off of him he backed away. "They just said that so they could close the case, there was nothing similar about the kidnappings and my mom's disappearance." His voice was cold, his eyes blazing with fury.

"Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately, I can't even recognize you anymore." Arthur stepped closer, struggling to keep himself collected. Buster faltered at the statement. He had noticed it, it was impossible not to, but he chose to ignore the changes. He could only focus on one thing at a time.

"Arthur please, just listen," he tried again, pleading with all his might. He turned to grab the papers, maybe if he just read them…

Firmly, Arthur grabbed his forearm to stop his movement. He shook his head, "No, you need to stop."

Buster stared at him. They stood for an eternity, Arthur's grip never loosening, desperately trying to reel him back to earth. Something in Arthur's expression cracked the thick walls Buster had spent the last six months building.

Suddenly feeling defeated, his body slumped, unable to withstand the weight any longer. "I can't."

Directing them back to the stairs, Arthur pulled him down. "Just try, for me. For your dad. For all of us around that love you. Please, give this up. It isn't healthy," he whispered.

"I'm so close," Buster sniffled. Arthur brought his hand to his head and carefully nudged it down to rest on his shoulder.

"I know," he said softly.

"She can't be gone," Buster choked.

"I know."

"It's not fair, she promised she would always be here." His vision blurred, eyelids slid tightly shut.

"I know."

END FLASHBACK

"I gave up my research that night, but I never let go of the belief. Arthur had to talk me back down every time I got too 'crazy' or woke up screaming from the nightmares. But I got better."

Staring at his gloved hands, Danny listened, his heart shattering a million times over with every word. In moments like this, he felt utterly small. His daily effort seemed meaningless. The world was too big, he could never save everyone.

Turning to face him, Danny floated an inch above the ground and waited. Buster, still lying in the grass, remained silent, occasionally bringing his fingers up to wipe away unwelcome tears. There was a calculating look etched across his face.

Realizing that the recount was over, Danny sat up and ran a hand through his wild white hair, "you still think they have her," he observed.

Meeting Danny's eyes, "I did before I met you," Buster confessed quietly.

Danny was confused, "What do you mean?" he asked as he scratched his head.

"I've never found any concrete evidence of an alien attack in my months of researching," Buster explained, "It all counted on leaps of faith. But here, the ghosts are pretty hard to deny."

Quirking his lips as he shifted his legs into his spectral tail, he floated out in front of him, "I can't argue with you there." Buster raised his eyebrow with the faintest hint of a smile.

"There was an invasion only a week ago. Danny says it happens often," he stated, sounding thoughtful.

Danny narrowed his eyes, growing uncertain of the direction the conversation was heading, "I guess so."

"So…Amity Park is not the only place in the world that ghosts can appear. Is it?" He asked eagerly, a glimmer of hope sparkling in his broken eyes.

Danny bit his lip, he wanted to derail the thought right then and there but he couldn't find the strength to lie. "No, we just have a pretty stable portal. Natural portals appear all over space and time," he explained, cringing at the growing excitement exuding off of Buster.

"So it isn't far-fetched to say that a ghost could be going through these portals and taking things back with them?"

This was bad, Danny knew it was bad. But Buster was right, it was completely possible. "Um…I guess not," he reluctantly mumbled.

Buster sat upright, the hope in his eyes so bright that it was blinding, "I think I was wrong this whole time," he concluded. "My mom wasn't abducted by aliens. She was kidnapped by a ghost."

Danny was speechless, how could he have let it get this far. His heart sank as he thought about the theory. He hated to be the bearer of bad news, he didn't want to stand there watching the ray of hope die. "Buster…I… I can't deny that it's plausible. But it's highly unlikely," he finally stumbled out.

Jerking his head upward to look him in the eye, Buster lowered his eyebrows in anger. "Phantom, don't give me that. I've seen the ghosts. I know what they are capable of," he defended stubbornly.

Taking in a deep breath, Danny prepared himself. "I know, but you're suggesting that a ghost has been kidnapping humans across the country and harbouring them in the ghost zone."

Nodding firmly, "Yes," he confirmed. The fiery determination was intimidating, even for Danny, but he stood his ground.

"It's not possible, I would have noticed," he stated, equally as firm.

Buster grit his teeth. Crossing his arms, "have you seen the whole zone?" he challenged as he raised an eyebrow.

Floating in front of him, Danny mildly glared at the hard-headed boy. With a relenting sigh, "No," he confirmed. His legs reappeared as he dropped himself back down, knees on the cold ground, facing the boy.

Buster's expression softened, the anger dissipated. Pulling his coat closer to himself, "So, there's a possibility," he whispered, "There is always a possibility."

Danny had never seen him look so small and broken. "It's been a year, humans can't survive in that environment for very long. Even if your theory is right…it might be too late," he quietly explained, voice slightly tremoring.

Fresh tears sprang to Busters eyes at the new information, "I have to try!" he exclaimed in denial. Reaching out, he tightly gripped Danny's forearms, "Please help me Phantom, there has to be a way." His desperate request was so passionate that Danny's own eyes watered. He wanted to help him. What kind of hero would he be if he didn't even try?

He stared at Busters pleading face as his mind reeled, planning and calculating various possible ways of helping that would not prove to be too dangerous. Suddenly, an idea popped into head. It was simple and relatively safe but he didn't know if it would work.

Danny swallowed thickly, "there is something I'm willing to try," he tentatively offered.

Buster released his grip, sagging down in relief. "Anything."

Looking at him sternly, "I'm not certain it'll work," he disclosed.

"I don't care," Buster said wiping away the moisture covering his face. An awkward smile stretching across his dry lips.

"You have to promise me that you're going to let go after this," Danny requested, placing a hand on the younger boy's shoulder.

"I promise," the boy whispered after a moment of thought. Danny regarded him, hoping that his plan would bring Buster some well-deserved peace, he sighed.

"Meet me here tomorrow night."


	10. Chapter 10: Every Mother's Child

His calves burned painfully as he ran, but he couldn't allow himself to slow down. He needed to get to the park. His body was trembling with anticipation, adrenaline rushing through his veins. Everything was going to be okay. Soon, she was going to be safe.

Finally reaching his destination, Buster let himself fall to his knees. Gulping greedily for oxygen, his chest heaved. Letting his breathing even out, he scoped the area for his ghostly friend. He wasn't there. Getting up, he walked stiffly over to a bench. A nagging feeling of disappointment crept up on him the longer he sat there. "Phantom will be here," he reminded himself, "he promised."

About an hour later, the doubt began to plague his mind. Bringing his knees up, he rested his forehead against them in an attempt to block out the thoughts.

"Sorry I'm late," a familiar voice echoed. Startled, Buster jerked his head up to find the ghost seated beside him. Patting the thermos strapped snugly to his side, he explained. "I got a little, uh, 'held up'."

Nodding his head in understanding, Buster felt a little guilty for doubting him. Phantom was a busy guy. Taking in the powerful being at his side, he let his previous excitement seep back out. "So what's the plan?"

Phantom's expression was unreadable, Buster couldn't decide if he appeared uncomfortable or smug. The ghost reached behind him and pulled something out, he held it out in front of Buster as if to answer his question.

Raising an eyebrow, "A scroll?" Buster observed.

"It's a map." Phantom said as he carefully unrolled the aged paper, "The Infa-Map to be more accurate."

"Is that part of the plan?" Buster scratched his chin, hoping that Phantom was actually on to something.

Rolling the map back up and carefully putting it away, Phantom flashed him a sloppy grin. "It is the plan."

Confused beyond belief, Buster stared at him. Eyes demanding an explanation. How could they find her with a measly map? If it were that easy, she would have been home months ago.

Floating off the bench, Phantom stuck his arms under Buster's and swiftly lifted him up without warning. "I'll explain everything on the way."

"Where are we going?" Buster shouted through the sudden rush of air.

"Fenton Works, we need a portal" Phantom replied.

Buster hesitated at the information, biting his lip. "Is Danny going to help too?"

Giggling, Phantom shook his head. "Nah, the family is sleeping. We're gonna sneak in."

Buster started, "Phantom, stop. We can't do that." He never agreed on breaking in to anyone's home, much less Danny's. Who knows what the guy could do to them if he thought they were robbers.

"Don't worry Buster, Danny is my friend too remember? I go down there all the time. How else do you think I send the ghosts back?" Phantom sounded pretty confident which slightly calmed his nerves.

He still felt conflicted at the prospect but decided against arguing. "You said you'd explain," he said instead.

Grunting, Phantom adjusted his grip on him. "The Infa-Map is a ghostly artifact, it's mysterious but very powerful. A friend of mine guards it but he let me borrow it for you."

"What does it do?" Buster prompted, growing impatient. Phantom chuckled, "It takes you to whichever location your heart desires." With that he dove straight into the ground.

Buster didn't even have time to scream, before he knew it they were standing in what appeared to be a lab. Buster had been to Danny's house before, but he had never seen his parent's lab. The room was mostly dark, equipment hidden behind creepy shadows. However, everything was washed in a soft green light emanating from the back wall. Buster couldn't help but be hypnotised by the endless swirl of green that reminded him profoundly of Phantom's eyes.

"I've never used it like this," Phantom continued as if no time had passed, "so I'm not sure if our search will be for nothing, but you said you'd try anything right?"

Tearing his eyes away from the portal, he nodded. "Right."

Phantom unstrapped the thermos and connected it to the machine, "I can't promise you that it will even take us anywhere," he said softly but sternly. "You have to be prepared for whatever we might find. You might not like it," he warned.

Buster gulped, in all honesty, he wasn't ready. He wanted her to be safe. But he knew that was asking a lot. It had been a year, she could be severely hurt and enslaved by an evil ghost. She might not even remember him. But he needed to know, he needed to find her. "I understand."

Walking back over to him, Phantom gave him a pointed look. "Remember your promise, after this, you move on. You live your life. No more theories, no more searching."

The intensity of his swirling green eyes was overwhelming, Buster looked down at his hands. He didn't know if he could keep that promise. This was his mom, how could he ever stop looking?

Glancing back up, "I'll try," he replied honestly.

Phantom lowered his squared shoulders, his eyes softened with sympathy. "That's all I could hope for."

He took the map out again, opening it up his eyes roamed its intricate markings. Gazing up, Phantom locked eyes with Buster, "ready?"

Buster exhaled audibly, wiping his sweaty palms against his jeans, he nodded his head. "Ready."

Phantom gestured him forward, one hand on the map and one hand on Buster's elbow. "Hold on," he instructed, "close your eyes and tell it where you want to go"

Buster hesitated, his heart pounding, arms shaking. He stared at the flimsy paper before him. Could it really be this easy? Was this nightmare really coming to an end? He didn't have answers to satisfy his muddled brain, but he was willing to find them. Reaching out, he grasped the map as if it were a lifeline. In a way, he supposed it was. With a deep breath, he slid his eyes shut and pictured his mother's beautiful laughing face. "Bring me to my mom."

A powerful tug pulled him off his feet. He felt Phantom's grip tighten around his elbow as he unconsciously curled his fingers tighter against the paper. His arms felt as if they were being pulled out of their sockets but he was too distracted to notice the pain.

The same mesmerizing green enveloped his senses as they sped past various undiscernible objects. He didn't notice the scream as it ripped out of his own throat, the rushing of the green swirls moving past him was the only sound reaching his ears.

Previous images of the ghost zone that he had constructed in his head from one of Phantom's stories were completely forgotten. The place was unbelievable, even for Buster Baxter. Thoughts of his mom spending all this time in a disturbing place like this sent chills down his spine.

Suddenly, the tugging slowed down and their blurry surroundings cleared enough for him to be able to make out a swirling shape similar to the Fenton Portal ahead of them. His scream finally reached his ears as it grew louder from the shock of being pulled in.

Momentarily disoriented, Buster fell on his stomach. He had no idea where Phantom was, his firm grip on his elbow was lost somewhere during the pull. His throat ached, arms protested movement as he attempted to push himself up. The grey sky was an unsettling change from the toxic green he had just been immersed in. Looking around he spotted Phantom groaning behind him, shaking out his messy hair.

"You okay?" he asked.

Buster grunted as he sat on his bottom, "I'll get back to you on that."

"Doesn't matter how many times I do that. It will never get easier." Phantom rolled his shoulders as he sprang up, looking in much better shape than Buster.

"What'd you think of the zone?" He asked mischievously.

Buster chuckled, "Definitely not how I imagined, and admittedly really creepy."

Phantom grinned, "Yeah, that's how I felt my first time as well"

Finally gaining his bearings, Buster realized that they were sitting in an open field. He looked toward Phantom who was glaring out into the distance at a building with a small frown on his face. "Where are we?"

Phantom turned to face him, "I'm not completely sure, the Infa-Map doesn't always bring you where you want to go but where you need to be…whatever that means." Extending his hand out, he offered it to Buster.

Finally on his feet, he wrinkled his forehead trying to comprehend why the map would bring them here. There was nothing but an endless field of dying grass behind an old rundown facility.

Phantom flew up and roamed the area and Buster busied himself by watching his flight. His heart was in his throat the whole time. What did this mean? First of all, his mom was not in the ghost zone. He felt a tiny wave of relief. Was she in that building? That seemed plausible.

Lifting his hand and curving it against the side of his mouth, he prepared to call Phantom back down. His breath hitched when Phantom abruptly stopped mid-air. He remained frozen in place, a hand covering his mouth in what appeared to be shock.

Buster's pulse picked up, he didn't want to know what Phantom was gaping at. "Phantom! Maybe we should search that building!" he called out, ignoring how his voice shook. Phantom jerked his head back at him, startled. He hesitated for a moment before slowly flying back down.

The look on his face made Buster's stomach flip-flop. "…Buster…I"

"I think we should search the building, there is no way she could be out here," he interrupted, there was no time to stand around and talk. The longer they waited, the longer she would be stuck in that horrible place.

Phantom slowly floated closer. "Buster, listen…I saw something."

Evaluating the distance between them and the building, he realized that there would be at least a twenty minute walk. "You should probably fly us there, it would be faster."

Phantom placed his gloved hand on Buster's shoulder lightly, "…you won't find her there."

Sharply flicking his eyes to meet green ones, Busters blood ran cold by the emotion he witnessed.

Backing away, "How could you possibly know that?"

Closing his eyes, Phantom ran his hand over his face in distress, "I…this isn't just a field."

The gears in his mind turned, making leaps of logic that would only make sense to him, "What? Is there an underground tunnel or something?"

At his question, Phantom's eyes glazed over making him appear more human than he had ever seemed before. "No Buster…"

"What is it then?" Buster demanded. He wasn't in the mood for this, they needed to get going. They were here, she didn't have to wait in there any longer. He needed to save her.

Struggling for words, Phantom looked away from him. "I…uh…the grass up ahead is…patchy." His voice cracked as he spoke, but Buster could not comprehend his words. They were delaying the rescue over lawn care?

"So, what does that have to do with anything?" He disputed, eyes filling with unwelcome doubt. Walking closer and placing his hand back on Buster's shoulder Phantom opened his mouth but promptly shut it again. He took a deep breath, tilted his head down and licked his lips. Buster couldn't help but think about how strange that was for a ghost.

"It's a burial ground," Phantom whispered. Buster's heart stopped.

He hadn't heard correctly he was sure of it, "a what?"

Looking pained, the ghost lifted his head back up to meet his face. "Buster…the map brought us to a grave yard."

Buster felt as if someone had knocked the air right out of him. As if he were flying freely in the air one second and then drowning in the bottom of the ocean the next. He pushed the ghost off of him and turned, starting the trek towards the building himself. "You're wrong, there's no gravestones. This isn't a graveyard. It's just an open field. I'm telling you, we should go to that building, she's probably waiting in there."

Easily keeping pace with Buster's frantic steps, "Buster please, calm down and think for a moment. If she was there, the map would have taken you to the building not to this field."

He stopped in his tracks and harshly glared at the pleading ghost. "It was wrong then, you said it yourself. It's unpredictable." With that he left Phantom behind and continued his fruitless journey.

Minutes later, Phantom appeared beside him. "I said it takes you where you need, not where you want."

Buster didn't stop, he had his mind set. The map brought them to the building, not the field. There was no other explanation. "Well I need to be with my mom, I'll go there myself"

Suddenly Phantom floated out of the grass in front of him, intersecting his path and grabbing both of Buster's shoulders. "Stop."

Buster struggled, pushing and kicking at the ghost. "Let me go." Phantom pushed him down, forcing him to ground. Buster couldn't bring himself to look at the ghost's face. He didn't need to see the pity. His mom would be fine if he would just let him go.

"Please," Phantom's voice broke out.

Closing his eyes in frustration, Buster stopped struggling. "Give me the map," he demanded. He waited a few moments and then looked up expectantly at the ghost. Phantom made no movement to offer the object up so Buster stuck his hand out. The ghost looked down at it and faltered, Buster watched as he relented and pulled the map back out before he placed it carefully in Buster's hand.

Unrolling it the way he had seen Phantom do before, he held it tightly and whispered. "Where is my mom?"

The map came to life, but the tug was not as powerful as before. It gently lifted him and propelled him further down the field in the direction Phantom had flown earlier. Buster's stomach dropped once he realized they were headed further away from the building.

The map's movement died down and he was dropped right next to a patch of grass that didn't quite match the grass around it. He shifted his eyes around him and took in various other patches similar to the one before him.

Dropping the artifact, he rose to his feet and backed away. "It's wrong, this isn't her." His eyes welled up as he felt his heart shatter, "You said you weren't sure if it would work right?"

Phantom remained on the ground and stared at the patch that the map had led them to "…Right"

"Then it didn't, let's go home." He concluded bitterly. He knew that following a map was too good to be true. He would just convince Phantom to let him search the ghost zone later. She was there, he was sure of it.

Watching him walk away, Phantom's defeated voice called out. "Buster stop. Take a deep breath." When Buster stopped but did not turn around, he continued, "I warned you before we left, you promised me you were ready."

A sudden surge of emotion hit him, the tears in his eyes streamed down as the anger bubbled up. He turned around, fists curled tightly enough to draw blood from his palms. "I was ready to find her alive! She can't be dead! She never even said goodbye!"

Feeling a wave of exhaustion, Buster collapsed on the ground. Shielding his head from the unforgiving world, he raised his arms and curled them around connecting it to his knees in a fetal position. His whole frame shaking in powerful sobs.

Phantom was next to him in a flash but Buster was too distressed to pay him much attention. He barely heard the ghost whispering constantly as he lightly stroked his back. "It's okay, I'm so sorry."

An eternity passed before Buster cried himself out, his body still shook with dry heaves. Slowly the heaving succumbed to occasional hiccups and then to a silent nothingness. The gray around them turned a shade darker when he finally lifted himself up, too tired to feel embarrassed of the state he was in.

Phantom's whispering had died down a while ago, Buster had almost forgotten he was even there. Looking up at the ghost, he noticed a single dry tear on his cheek. Through his misery, he couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for the ghost. He had died so young, his life was probably ripped away from him just as unfairly as his mom's.

"Take me to her ghost, I need to talk to her. This can't be it Phantom." he weakly requested. Phantom appeared surprised. He tilted his brows up, an endless sadness emanating from his eyes. He looked just as exhausted as Buster felt.

"Not everyone turns into a ghost."

Sharply sucking in a breath, "but the ones who die tragically do, right?" He was desperate, he wanted her here with him. "She would come back for me, at least to say goodbye."

Buster did not like the expression on Phantom's face. He needed her, he did not know how he could survive without knowing what happened to her. He needed to see her face one last time, to tell her he loved her.

"The map would have taken us to her ghost first if she were one," Phantom croaked. Buster didn't have the strength to cry anymore. He gave Phantom a steely glare, "No, she can't be gone. You're lying."

Two silent tears fell from his unearthly eyes, "I'm so sorry."

Watching those impossible tears fall, his guard broke down further. His insides felt hallow, she was gone. He couldn't believe it. She was his everything, not once throughout the whole year long nightmare did he let himself believe that she was truly gone. But as he watched the ghost in front of him cry, the unbearable truth somehow became real.

Walking back to the patch where his mother lay, he crouched down and placed a gentle hand on the dry grass. "Where did she go?"

Phantom didn't reply, instead he gripped his shoulder tightly. Buster wasn't sure if it was meant to comfort him or Phantom. After a long and heavy stillness, Phantom began to speak.

"Buster…in death, a person is left with a choice. It's not conscious, but it's still a choice. Remain on this plane of existence, wallowing in their troubles and fears of the human world. Or move on, accept fate, and let go. It's a difficult choice, the world and your soul's ties to it are tempting and the pain of leaving your family and friends behind is overwhelming. No one knows what happens once you give it up, it's terrifying to not have the comfort of that knowledge. But, staying here just doesn't help. Most ghosts don't reconnect with their family, many of the ones I know don't even remember what is keeping them here."

When the ghost did not continue his speech, "She could have at least come back to see me before she left," Buster whispered.

Phantom sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "Your mom chose to move on, it's better that way. Believe me."

Buster looked at his solemn face, "why didn't you move on if it's so great." He realized that it was a rather insensitive question after it came out of his mouth, but he was too tired to care.

Phantom took his time, biting his lip before he answered, "I couldn't let go."

Somehow, his eyes salvaged the last remnants of water in his body as they glazed over. "How did she let go so easily?"

Offering him a sad smile, Phantom cleared his throat. "She knew you were strong enough to survive without her."

Buster didn't think so, he was broken. There wasn't much of his old self left anymore. Staring at the grave, his throat constricted once again. He didn't have the strength to sob, he needed to leave. "Just take me home, I don't want to be here."

Phantom did not need to be told twice, he picked up the map and wrapped one strong arm around Buster's weak frame, "Okay."

* * *

Landing back in the Fenton Works Lab, Danny glanced around the familiar surroundings before turning them both visible again. He was not sure how long they had spent away from Amity, the lack of windows in the lab was not much help. However, the quiet of the house indicated that the sun had yet to rise. They wouldn't have to deal with damage control for their absence.

His entire body ached with emotional exhaustion, he couldn't even imagine how his friend felt. Glancing at the boy, Danny frowned. His face had adopted a sickly colour. "Buster, if you're going to be sick I'll fly you up to the bathroom. Danny won't mind, I promise."

Buster shook his head, gripping tightly at the metal table behind him. "No, I'm not gonna throw up. But I need my inhaler, I left it my room."

Danny's eyes widened as he just then noticed the short, shallow breaths Buster was taking accompanied by a slight wheezing. "Okay, try to take calm breaths I'll bring us there in a flash."

Scooping him up bridal style, Danny secured his grip before rocketing out of the building towards the Baxter residence. The town was beginning to wake up, a few cars and some pedestrians bustled beneath their aerial route but Danny was too focused on his destination to notice.

"We're here," he breathed as he placed Buster gently down on his desk chair.

Buster opened his eyes and pointed. "It's in the top drawer of my night stand."

Wasting no time, Danny flew in the indicated direction and retrieved the inhaler. Holding his own breath he watched as the boy took a dose, the tension in his face gradually dissolving. "Better?" he questioned.

Glancing up at him, Buster shot him a look before turning his eyes defiantly away. Danny nearly slapped himself in the head, "sorry."

He awkwardly floated in spot for a few minutes, not knowing what to do with himself. Buster probably wanted to be alone. "Try to get some rest," he finally whispered as he turned and headed for the large window.

Just as he phased his right foot out, "Did it hurt when you died?" Buster blurted.

The question caught him off guard, freezing him in place for a moment. Finally, he retrieved his foot and turned around. Sitting down on the ledge he stared down at his hands. "Everyone's death is different, my experience has nothing to do with your mom." he said rigidly, not once meeting his eyes.

"So that's a yes then" Buster concluded quietly, almost to himself.

Danny looked up and searched the boy's face, "…Yeah."

Buster stood up and walked over to his bed, sitting down on the edge he unwaveringly stared at Danny, "I'm sorry," he genuinely whispered.

Taken slightly aback, Danny managed a small grateful smile. "It was a long time ago, don't worry about it."

Biting his bottom lip, "how long ago?" Buster probed.

Danny was having trouble meeting his gaze, placing a hand on the back of his neck, "almost three years," he acknowledged.

Buster backed up into his arranged pillows as he nodded, "Oh."

After a while of more silence, Danny gently floated up off the ledge, preparing to leave when Buster stopped him once again. "Do you think you will ever move on?" he questioned with pleading eyes. Sighing, Danny shrugged.

"Eventually, when the time is right." It wasn't a lie, he would die eventually and would hope that he could move on this time.

"…If you get there before I do…would you tell her that I love her?"

The incessant clenching on his heart tightened, his eyes threatened to betray him once again but he managed to compose himself. "She already knows. But sure."

* * *

Sitting on the edge of his cold bed, he scowled at the alarm clock. There was only half an hour left before he was due to wake up for school. It wasn't like he could have slept tonight anyway, he reasoned. 'Might as well get a head start.'

Heading over to the bathroom, Danny started the shower, letting the warmth of the steam encase the room. Staring at his matted black hair and tired blue eyes, Danny sighed and picked up his tooth brush. However, no amount of brushing was able to rid his mouth of the bitter taste the night's events had left behind.

Images of his own past and future plagued his thoughts. Buster was admittedly much stronger than Danny could ever hope to become, the boy had lost everything but still managed to find the strength to live. Danny couldn't say the same for himself.

After his extra-long shower, Danny sat at the kitchen table staring unseeingly at his untouched breakfast. He was so consumed in his thoughts he didn't hear the footsteps as they came down the stairs.

"You're up early," Maddie's voice rang out cheerily, causing Danny to flinch out of his daze.

"Oh, uh yeah…just tryna get to school on time," He chuckled, or at least tried to.

Maddie frowned as she searched his face, she seemed to take note of the fake laugh and sagged shoulders. "That's great sweetie, I'm proud of you." She said before turning to open the fridge. "Do you want me to fix you something else? You haven't touched what you have in front of you."

Looking down at his plate, Danny's stomach churned. He wasn't very hungry, but he picked up his spoon and downed a spoonful anyway. "No mom, I'm good. Thanks," he said, smiling genuinely at her this time. She smiled back but the saddened concern never left her eyes. She seemed to carry that look a lot these days, because of him, he was sure.

Danny was suddenly overcome by a new wave of emotion. Pushing his chair out, he walked over to where she was standing at the counter. Wrapping his arms around her from behind, he hugged her tightly and whispered, "I love you mom."

Maddie turned around, a look of shock adorned on her face however it almost instantly was replaced by pure love and joy. Hugging him back tightly as if this was a once in a lifetime opportunity, She kissed his forehead. "I know honey, I love you too."

Finally pulling away, he grinned and grabbed a piece of the carrot she had been chopping before setting himself back to finish his own breakfast. Occasionally glancing back up at her he couldn't help but feel incredibly lucky. No matter how much he messed up, she would always be here to love him. It was comforting.

Someone had torn that comfort away from Buster.

Danny's features darkened, eyes threatening to flash green. Murder was an unforgivable crime, one that Danny Phantom does not stand in the sidelines and lets happen. Something had caught his eye at the field, something worth investigation. This was a lot bigger than a single homicide and he was going to get to the bottom of it.

Taking a sharp intake of air, he grabbed his backpack to head out the door, but not before sparing one final look over his shoulder towards his mother.

"goodbye mom."


	11. Chapter 11: Stage 4, Depression

Turning to stare at his bedroom door that shook under the pounding his cousin was subjecting it to, he groaned. "What is it Dash?" He did not want to get out of bed, sure he wasn't sleeping but he'd rather lay in bed all day than go to school.

"I just wanted to know if you were feeling any better, you didn't even eat dinner yesterday."

Buster scowled, of course he wasn't feeling any better. He felt empty. But Dash couldn't really know that, "I'm not hungry, I still feel pretty sick" he mumbled.

There was silence from behind the closed door, but Buster was sure the boy was still standing there. A heavy sigh broke out, "Alright, there's chicken soup in the fridge. Mom said to heat it up in the microwave."

His retreating footsteps could be heard as he reluctantly made his way across the hall. Relieved, Buster cuddled further into his pillows and shut his eyes. He was finally drifting off when a soft buzzing brought him back into consciousness. Sluggishly reaching into his jeans that he hadn't bothered changing out of, he took out his phone. Momentarily blinded by the bright screen, Buster grumbled and reopened his eyes. He was slightly surprised to find a text from Danny, he had been sure it was Arthur again.

He hadn't talked to his Amity friends since they had gone bowling together.

' _Hey, how are you?_ '

The question irritated him, rolling onto his back he lifted his arms up to type out his reply.

'Not good.'

Dropping his phone back down beside him, he rubbed his face. Why couldn't everyone just leave him alone? He wanted to disappear. There was another buzz.

' _Can I come over after school?_ '

Buster sighed, he didn't want to deal with Danny and his problems right now.

'I'm pretty contagious. I'll see you at school when I get over it."

He didn't really care if it sounded rude. He waited a few seconds before Danny's reply.

' _Ok._ '

Powering off his phone, Buster shoved it into his drawer. Pulling the covers over his head, he curled up into a ball and drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Shoving his phone into his back pocket with a frown on his face, Danny turned the corner from the alley he had just transformed in. Looking over, he waved at Wes as he passed his hiding spot but didn't bother with their daily teasing routine. He wasn't really in the mood.

He knew Buster would want his space, he respected that, but he didn't want him to think they didn't care. It was important for him to realize he wasn't alone.

Walking into the school, Danny glanced around for his friends. A waving hand caught his attention from down the hall. "Hey Tuck, hi Sam." he greeted unenthusiastically. They both frowned, instantly picking up on his gloomy mood.

"Who died?" Sam responded sardonically. Danny flinched at the comment, but quickly straightened up to avoid the oncoming interrogation. Buster could tell them himself if he wanted, besides Danny Fenton wasn't supposed to know.

Sam had noticed the flinch, narrowing her eyes she studied him but thankfully chose to drop it. "Did you finish your paper?" she asked instead.

Danny slapped himself in the forehead, "Shoot."

Tucker shook his head, "Damn dude, that's rough."

Danny sighed as he dropped his bag down by his locker, "I guess that's another F under my belt."

Patting him on the back, Tucker smirked mischievously. "Don't worry man. I could always hack in to the system and change up a few grades if you're failing."

Sam rolled her eyes, shoving Tucker away from Danny she glared at them both. "I don't think that's a good idea."

Tucker threw back his head in exasperation, "come on, manipulating government systems is my specialty."

Danny shook his head as he chuckled half-heartedly. "Nah, I'd rather not cheat…"

Tucker shrank back down, "Oh yeah…."

Danny turned back to his locker, and shut the metal door. The wheels in his head turning as he thought about what Tucker had just said regarding his hacking skills. Just as he was about to voice his thoughts, the warning bell went off.

Sam and Tucker waved goodbye as they both departed to get to their own classes. They hardly spent time together at school anymore. Sighing, Danny picked up his bag and turned in his own direction. Maybe his teacher would give him an extension he thought. Rolling his eyes at his own ridiculous thoughts, Danny didn't notice the stomping before it was too late.

Pushing him against the school's painted brick wall, standing nose to nose, Dash scowled at him. Everything about his body language read enraged; his muscled were tensed, teeth clenched, jaw jutted forward and various veins popping out. Everything, except for his eyes.

Danny quirked up his eyebrow at the out-of-place concern laced within his anger glazed orbs. Dash didn't say anything as he glared at him, probably hoping he would cower under his 'fearful' display. Danny was really too tired for this.

Noticing the jocks eyes flick down his face to his mouth for a split-second, Danny smirked. "Gee Dash, if you liked me that way you could've just said so."

Instantly turning red, Dash pushed himself away, "Shut up Fentoad," he growled, "what the hell did you do to Buster?"

Straightening out his shirt, Danny glared. "I didn't do anything to him," he defended as he tried to make his way around the wall of a boy.

Dash grabbed the back of his shirt to stop him and turned him around. "He told me about your gun," he sneered, pure venom in his voice. "If he's in some kind of danger because of you and your sketchy hobbies I swear…"

Danny's eyes widened, holding up his hands and taking a small step back. "Dude, calm down. That gun wasn't mine!"

Dash didn't look convinced. His eyebrows knitted together further, the wrinkles in his forehead deepened. "Then what were you doing showing it off to a fourteen your old! He was scared of you Fenton, and now he won't leave his room!"

Danny stared at him, his arms still raised in defense. Buster hadn't really told him anything, it seemed like Dash was jumping to uninformed conclusions.

"We were being mugged, I disarmed the guy. That's it. I didn't do anything to him or to Buster." he said trying to clear up the confusion. When Dash's anger seemed to diminish slightly, he continued. "If you cared about him as much as you let on, you'd realize what's really wrong."

"What is that supposed to mean?" He gritted, eyes narrowed.

Danny rolled his eyes, "his mom, Dash, I'm sure you're aware since you know…you guys are family. It's been a year. He's grieving," he said as vague as possible.

Releasing the tension in his muscles, Dash backed away and scratched his head "…oh."

Danny smiled at the compassionate expression that took over his features. It really was strange how much Dash actually cared for his cousin, Danny would have never thought he would see such emotions on the guy. "Just leave him be for a bit okay? He's avoiding me too."

Dash sighed but nodded. "Yeah I guess you're right…but this isn't over."

Shaking his head in minor annoyance, Danny turned around to finally get to class only for the bell to ring. He was late.

"Wonderful."


	12. Chapter 12: Stayin' Alive

The chilly wind slapped his cheeks, bringing out a rosy colour, making him feel more alive than he had all week. Looking up at the sky, he was disappointed to find a thick cover of gloomy clouds, not a single star in the sky. Perfect, he thought cynically.

His stomach was in knots, he was dreading going back to school tomorrow. His Aunt and Uncle had been understanding but they could only deal with his fake flu for so long. The thought of spending six straight hours pretending everything had not been ripped out from under him was overwhelming. In his state, he would probably breakdown crying in second period.

Reaching the park, Buster walked down the familiar path straight to the playground. He had half expected his ghost friend to drop by his house over the last week to check on him but was grateful that Phantom kept his distance. However, Buster had been ignoring all his friends and he felt a little lonely. Phantom was the only one who knew what was really going on, the only one he didn't have to pretend around.

Picking up a stick, he sat himself down on the wooden ledge of the sand surrounding the swings to wait and began tracing nonsense patterns. The ominous howling of the wind was strangely calming. The night was void of any other sounds. Loosing himself to the thoughtless silence, Buster finally allowed a small smile to grace his face.

A sudden uproar of sound from behind frightened him out of the false calm. A long and loud cracking of a tree branch followed by a muffled thump and crash. Realizing that something had fallen out of the tree, he ran towards it. A spike of adrenaline coursed through his veins, his blood rushing loudly in his ears.

As he approached, he could make out the shape of a tennis shoe laying in the grass not far from the fallen entity. ' _A person?!_ ' he panicked and picked up his speed.

Finally getting close enough to see any distinguishing features, Buster stopped in his tracks. His hand went flying to his mouth in shock. "Danny!"

The boy looked dreadful, Buster couldn't tell if he was even breathing. ' _No, No, No, No, No. He has to be alive_ ', Buster repeated to himself as he stared at the unmoving chest. His eyes were shut, mouth slightly hung agape, limbs laying haphazardly. He didn't look alive.

In a heart stopping moment, Danny's eyes fluttered open, peculiarly alert as he quickly took in his surroundings. Buster took a small impulsive step back.

"…Buster?" At the sound of his name, Buster crossed the remaining distance between them.

"What in the world were you doing in the tree?" he questioned in an odd sense of relief as he carefully knelt down beside him. He took in the state of his friend, eyes going wide. "Oh my god. You're bleeding."

Danny looked alarmed, "what?" then, as if remembering something he dropped his head back onto the ground, "no, I'm fine."

Buster gawked at his absurdity for a split-second before pulling out his phone. "I'm calling an ambulance."

Turning his head to face him, eyebrows furrowed. "No, Buster don't," Danny gritted stubbornly.

"You're bleeding Danny! A lot! Why shouldn't I?" His mind spun, it looked really bad. Danny was having trouble breathing. He probably hit his head too hard, Buster shouldn't listen to him.

"Because…I don't want you to," he bit out with a grimace as he used too much force in his words.

"You'll die! How are you so hurt by just falling out of a tree?" There was a growing spot of blood on his torso and shoulder, it was pretty dark out but he could make out several bruises and cuts littering his arms and face.

"It's not as bad as it looks," Danny whispered as he let his eyes close.

"I'm calling 911, you can't stop me. I'm not going to let you die," Danny was being crazy. He couldn't just but a band aid on it and make this better. He wasn't going to lose someone else he cared about for something as stupid as pride.

"Please. Just listen," Danny groaned, eyes still shut in pain.

Buster's fingers hovered over the call button, "What?"

"I… I need to hide. It's not safe. I can't go to a hospital."

Buster's heart leapt into his throat as the implications of Danny's words struck. The injuries were not from merely falling out of a tree. Danny was in trouble. Something was terribly wrong. "Why."

Danny let out a strangled breath, "I did something."

An awful taste formed in his mouth as he thought back to all the rumors surrounding his friend. "Promise me it was nothing illegal."

Danny was quiet for a moment, opening his glazed eyes he looked at him, "…I can't do that."

Buster's eyes prickled, the doubt he had about the boy rushed forward from the back of his mind. He couldn't look at him in the eyes, shifting his gaze downward. "Danny, it's getting worse!" he screamed as the spot of blood grew uncontrollably. He pulled off his scarf and placed it against the wound to apply pressure, "were you stabbed?!"

"Do you want to help?" Danny asked, avoiding the question.

With an exasperated look Buster shook his head, "Of course. What do you think I'm trying to do?" Buster may not agree with Danny's life choices but he was still his friend. A friend who might die tonight if he didn't help him.

Smiling at him through the pain, "Then pull out my phone, it's in my back pocket."

Buster nodded, he bent around the boy while attempting to keep an even pressure on his wound. "What do you want me to do?"

Danny took a few moments to collect his breath, eyes closed. "The first three contacts…send them a mass text."

Buster selected the contacts, "What do you want me to say?"

"Type a capital c, space, a capital y then an a" Danny instructed quietly. Buster followed as he spoke and stared at the message. It was completely ordinary, but Danny was strangely specific.

"C Ya? To Sam, Tucker and your sister? Danny what's going on?" The ball of dread in the pit of his stomach grew.

"It's a code, did it send?" Danny replied dismissively, his voice sounding urgent.

"Yeah."

Grunting in approval, Danny motioned his head towards the bushes, "throw it away."

Hesitating, Buster looked nervously as the boy's pained features. "Danny, what did you do?" His voice sounded small. He was terrified, what had he gotten himself into? Danny wasn't just hiding, he was trying to disappear.

"You don't have to help me," he whispered sadly.

Buster watched the sadness in his eyes, a look so incredibly innocent that he really couldn't blame himself for not buying in to the rumors. When he got to the root of it, Danny Fenton was still a nice guy. He took a deep breath and chucked the phone as far away as possible. Danny smiled at him, he attempted to return the favour but it faltered as he felt something wet and warm against his fingers. Looking down, he noticed the scarf was soaking through. "You're losing a lot of blood, you at least need first aid. We need to get moving."

Instantly getting to work he lifted the scarf off only to securely wrap the blood-soaked item around Danny's torso. Tying it as tightly as possible without hurting the guy, he helped him into a sitting position. Danny's breathing became increasingly laboured, hitching as he tried to stand up. "I can't walk, my knee." Looking down, Buster noticed another gushing wound soaking the boy's jeans.

Trying to keep himself from panicking at the sheer amount of blood loss, "here," he offered his support as he lifted Danny to his feet, leaning him up against Buster's weak frame. "Where are we supposed to go?" he asked once they were relatively steady, trying to ignore the warmth of the blood against his skin.

"I'll give you directions…try to stay hidden. We need to get there fast. I don't think I can stay conscious for long."

Taking the first few careful steps, "Just do me a favour and stay alive."

Danny snorted despite the grave circumstance, gripping him tighter in attempted reassurance, "I will."

* * *

Everything hurt, but it was nothing new. He lifted his lidded eyes as he glanced at the shadow covered street signs, they were almost there. His body felt sickly warm, the coldness of the outside air was doing nothing to comfort him. Sweat trickled down his neck. Making the effort to look sideways at his rescuer, Danny smiled sadly. He wished Buster had never shown up, this was too much for him.

He was glad most of Amity slept at night, minimal witnesses were essential if his plan was going to work. Buster stopped his walking, indicating that Danny was to give further instructions. Opening his eyes, he glanced around and pointed in the right direction. They had resolved on not talking to save his energy and keep them discreet.

Danny was trying his best to not slip into a pain-induced coma. Just because he was used to it didn't mean it wasn't agonizing. The bleeding should have slowed down by now, he was sure of it. He hadn't bled out this much, ever. His healing powers usually kicked in and stopped the gushing, there was something wrong. However, Danny couldn't focus on that right now. He needed to remember the directions.

About ten minutes later, he found the pair of them standing below a small looming porch. They were here. Buster adjusted his grip, grunting, he lifted him onto the stairs. A few struggling steps later, he heard the sound of a distant doorbell from within the house followed by soft footsteps.

The door screeched open, stopping as the chained lock restricted its movement. "Fenton? Buster? What are you doing here?" A shrill voice rang in his ears.

It hurt his head; yet, he couldn't help but smile. "Hey buddy, you up for a slumber party?"

Opening his eyes, he took in the confused and angry expression behind the wooden door. "Why the hell would I be…" the boy began to shout, trailing off as he noticed their state, "whoa you're bleeding out."

Getting impatient, Buster intervened. "Wes can we please come in, he won't let me take him anywhere else. It's been too long, I don't even understand how he's still awake." His voice was shaking, he was scared. Danny hated this, the kid was still recovering from last week's trauma and Danny had to go and scar him for life once again.

The ginger's eyes were blown wide in shock but he quickly recovered. Narrowing them into slits, he was quiet for a few moments. Assessing his options, "Fine." Danny was genuinely surprised that he had so easily given in. He must have been in worse shape than he thought.

Wes unlocked the door, opening it all the way, he stepped out and helped Buster support Danny's weight as they walked into the living room. Danny let out a breath of relief once he was finally off his feet, wincing as his shoulder touched the back of the couch. "Sorry about the couch," he said as he noticed the red seep through the rough fabric.

"You better be," Wes grumbled as he walked swiftly down the hall.

Buster knelt down on the ground next to him, holding his uninjured hand in a death grip. Almost as if making sure Danny was still there. Upon hearing hurried steps returning, "Your dad home?" he called out worriedly. He hadn't thought about that when he first got here.

Putting down a first-aid kit on the coffee table, Wes shook his head, "No, he's out all week."

Relaxing, Danny leaned his head further into the cushioned backrest, "Great."

"You are _not_ staying for that long," the ginger grumbled as he rummaged through the worn out tin and pulled out some disinfectant and bandages.

Danny grinned, "Hey, I'm not planning on it."

Grunting in response, Wes got up and returned with a wet washcloth. "Buster take off his shirt."

Untying the scarf, Buster helped Danny remove the no-longer white garment. Danny held his breath as he did so, they weren't really aware at the extent of his injuries.

"Jeez Fenton, what the hell happened?" Wes grimaced as he laid eyes on his blood soaked body. Throwing the washcloth at Buster he returned to the first-aid kit and pulled out a needle and thread as Buster cleaned the wound.

With a wavering hand, Wes began stitching up his slashed stomach, occasionally gagging. Danny could have done it himself, but his arm hurt too much. He avoided looking at Buster who sat with one hand covering his mouth in horror.

Wrapping the bandages, Wes reluctantly moved on to his upper wound. "Shit!" he cried out as he backed away running to empty out the contents of his stomach in the garbage can. "There's a bullet lodged in your shoulder…I didn't sign up for this."

Buster's eyes went wide but he didn't say anything. Probably too shocked to speak. Danny felt horrible, he should have just made Buster leave him at the park. He could have fixed this himself, somehow. "Just give me some tweezers. I'll pull them out myself," he requested quietly.

Looking up, horror engraved onto his face, "them?" Buster croaked.

Danny licked his dry lips, pushing himself to sit up straighter and trying to ignore the stabs of excruciating pain. "There's one in my knee as well."

Buster stood up and sat down on the coffee table right in front of him. He gently lifted his stained leg and rested it on his lap. Rolling up the jean leg, he gasped at the gory sight. "Explain. Now."

Danny turned his head away, "I can't. The less you know the better."

Buster gave him a hardened look but Danny didn't waver. Wes returned, holding a pair of tweezers and quietly got back to work. About twenty minutes later, Danny was all patched up, leaning back on the couch wondering why his wounds were not healing. He felt extremely drowsy, his head swam but he couldn't pass out just yet.

"Go home, pretend you never saw me. Don't tell anyone. Not even Sam and Tucker." He instructed the boy still seated on the table across from him.

Buster furrowed his eyebrows and crossed his arms defiantly, "I'm not going anywhere."

"Yes you are," he gritted firmly.

Buster shook his head, "No I'm not."

Danny sighed and closed his eyes in frustration. He really wanted to sleep.

"Dude, you kinda need to be welcome here to stay. Spoiler alert, you're not welcome," Wes intervened in a strange attempt to help.

Danny allowed a small smile to stretch across his face at the ginger's effort.

"Imagine what would happen in the morning. If we both end up MIA, everyone would freak out and this will become way bigger than it already is," he explained, hoping that Buster would understand. The situation was serious, he couldn't afford to be found before he carried out his admittedly hole-ridden plan.

"…Fine. But I'll be back tomorrow," he stated stubbornly after a few moments of contemplation.

"Buster don't…" he started, It would be too suspicious. He couldn't make mistakes like that.

Buster held up his hand, "Danny stop." His tone held such finality that Danny took a moment to think. He regarded the boy, a wave of guilt washed over him as he saw the deep bags under his eyes.

"Just be careful," he relented.

"Just stay alive," Buster countered, eyes hard as steel.

Interrupting the intense moment, Wes snorted. "That's a pretty tall order…"

Danny rolled his eyes, "I will, now go home."

Buster pushed himself off the table, gave him a small look and finally turned to walk towards the door.

"Wait," Wes called out to stop him.

Raising a questioning brow as he turned back around, "what?"

"You're covered in blood."

* * *

Waving at Buster as he walked out the door dressed in Wes' old clothes, Danny let out a sigh. He had really messed up. Getting brutally injured and turning human mid-flight was not in the plan. At least he had lost his pursuers before the fact, he thought, trying to console himself. He winced as he adjusted himself on the couch into a more comfortable position. The pressure on his stomach was overwhelming.

He looked curiously at the ginger as he sat down on the sofa across from him, "So what have you done with Wes?" he said teasingly although he was genuinely curious.

"What are you blabbing about?" Wes muttered, eyes narrowed into slits.

"I thought you'd put up a better fight…much less help stitch me up. _And_ you passed up the perfect opportunity," Danny clarified, watching him with lidded drowsy eyes.

"To out you?"

Nodding the best that he could, "yeah."

Wes leaned back, swiping his hand dismissively in the air. "Nah, I decided I'm done with shouting out the obvious."

Danny raised up an eyebrow, "…That's unexpected." He had hit head pretty hard on the way down, he was probably hallucinating. Never in a million years had he thought Wes Weston would give up and help him.

"I'm going to help them figure it out themselves. You, my dear Phantom, have walked right into a trap."

At that, Danny found himself feeling relieved. He broke out into a giggle, "ah, that makes more sense. How could I have been so foolish?"

Wes just rolled his eyes, he looked pretty serious though. If Wes was going to point someone into figuring out his secret, Buster was probably his best bet. The kid was pretty open to crazy ideas.

"So…what did you do?" he asked him after a few moments of awkward silence. Danny sighed, He was really tired, but he guessed he owed him some sort of explanation.

"Stole something," he admitted vaguely.

Wes placed a hand against his chest in fake shock. "The great saviour of our town, a thief? Didn't see that coming," he said sarcastically.

Smiling at his antics, Danny shook his head sluggishly. "Nothing valuable…just incriminating evidence against the villain."

Wes snorted, pulling his feet up onto the sofa. "Don't need to keep up the innocent act here Fenton. I can see right through you."

This was true, he was probably the only one who could read him like an open book. Danny respected him for that. "My apologies."

"Why'd you come here anyway? Don't you have your own house? Friends?" he interrogated, understandably so.

"That's the point…they aren't only looking for Phantom. Home would be the first place they'd look, my friends would obviously be next. No one knows what great friends we are, not even Sam and Tuck, so I'm safe here."

Wes raised his eyebrows at the new information, seemingly surprised that Danny would get into trouble as Fenton. "We aren't friends," he pointed out sternly as an afterthought.

"Whatever you say man."

He rolled his eyes, "how long am I supposed to play host?"

Danny rubbed at his own droopy eyes, he could tell he was getting on Wes's nerves. "I…I'm hoping I can hide out for a couple days…maybe three?" he said hopefully, feeling apologetic for barging in on the boy so unexpectedly.

Getting to his feet, Wes stared long and hard at him, "I'm going to hold you to that."

"Don't worry, I do have a plan." he reassured with a tired smirk, silently hoping that he hadn't messed the said plan up too badly.

Wes nodded grudgingly as he turned away, "hmph, you owe me."

Watching his retreating form Danny bit his lip. He truly hated being such a burden. "Thanks Wes, I really appreciate it."

"Yeah well, don't make this a habit. I don't know what got into me," he mumbled as he walked upstairs. When he returned he was holding a pillow and blanket.

"Where do I sleep?" Danny asked, his words slurring together in exhaustion.

"Down here, you already ruined the couch…might as well get comfortable. I'm not okay with sleeping in the same room with you. I don't care how crippled you are," Wes said as he helped him lay down on his back then moved to flick off the light.

Danny snickered, feeling a little delirious. His eyes instantly shut as his head hit the pillow. "You suck at slumber parties."


	13. Chapter 13: Code Yellow

He stood awkwardly still in the doorway as all eyes turned to face him. Accusing glares bore holes into his forehead.

"Ah Mr. Baxter, how nice of you to finally join us this fine Monday morning," Mr. Lancer greeted him. Buster took a deep breath and stepped in, his presence quickly forgotten by his peers.

He quietly made his way to his seat, shrinking down into it, trying to disappear. He didn't want to be here. The air in the room was suffocating. An eerie feeling prickled at the back of his neck since the moment he left the house. People were staring at him; they knew. He wanted to go back to Elwood city. He hated this place.

Last night was a blur. He couldn't remember much, the only thing that filled his memories was blood. Lots and lots of blood. And Danny.

How had Danny survived? Who was he hiding from? What had he done? What had Buster done? He helped someone who admitted to committing a crime. Buster was harbouring a criminal. Had he done the right thing? That question haunted him all night as he lay awake in bed.

Of course he had done the right thing, he couldn't just hand his injured friend over to the police now could he? Nor could he have left him there to fend for himself. He would have died.

But now what? Buster couldn't hide behind the false innocence written on Danny's face or the lies his smiling eyes told him. He couldn't pass the whisperings that followed the boy around as mere rumors. He had seen a side of his life he had never wanted to know. Could he just stay quiet? Buster was never good at keeping secrets.

Letting his head slip out of his palms and hit the desk, he groaned softly. He missed his mom. She would have known exactly what he should do. Picturing her face as she listened to his dilemma and gave him advice in her guiding sort of way, Buster's eyes glistened. His breathing hitched. He couldn't cry. Not here.

"Mr. Baxter?" at the sound of his name, Buster raised his head. His heart beat sped up, he hadn't been paying an ounce of attention. He was going to sound like a complete idiot on his first day back. Great, icing to top the cake.

"Are you alright? Do you need to go to the Nurse?" Mr. Lancer asked instead of a pressing question about his lesson.

Buster let out a sigh of relief before offering the man a grateful smile. "No, Thank you Mr. Lancer. I'm fine."

The man studied him for a moment before nodding and returning to his lesson. Leaning back onto the plastic chair, Buster attempted listening, but his mind was elsewhere.

He wondered if Wes had come to school. Was Danny all alone? Would he even be there when he came to check up on him? What about Danny's parents, they were probably worried sick. How much did Sam and Tucker even know? Why had he chosen Wes' house as a hideout in the first place? Who would shoot and stab a sixteen year-old? Would first-aid really be enough for bullet and knife wounds? What if there was internal damage? Danny could still die. Buster was going to go insane.

There was a sharp authoritative knock on the classroom door, Buster looked up curiously. Glad for the distraction, he shook the thoughts out of his head as he watched Mr. Lancer answer the door. Two large men stood in the doorway. Both wore identical bored expressions, eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses. Dressed completely in stark white suits.

Buster had never seen these guys before, but at the sight of them, sweat trickled down his face. The room's suffocating air condensed further. An eruption of murmurs sounded all around him. Buster tuned them all out.

"Good Morning sir, agent K and agent O of the Guys in White," the black man introduced professionally, "we would like to ask you and your class for a few moments of your time, if you don't mind."

"Actually, I do mind," Mr. Lancer replied defiantly, "we are in the middle of an important lesson."

The agents pushed him aside and made their way in to the classroom. "You don't really have a say. That was merely a formality."

Gaping at the rude behaviour, Mr. Lancer stood to the side, eyes narrowed. Buster wanted to leave. He couldn't see their eyes, but he knew they were staring straight at him.

Hands behind their back, they walked around the room. Glancing critically at every student. Searching for someone. Once they got back to the front of the classroom, the white one, cleared his throat. "I'm sure you are all familiar with the ghost known as Phantom."

Buster's heart skipped a beat. Phantom? Who were these guys?

"We are aware you kids seem to idolize him as a hero of some sort, however, please be advised that this is far from the truth. Phantom is a highly dangerous entity."

Buster furrowed his brows.

"If any one of you children have come into recent contact with the Spector, come forward. The GIW would be appreciative of your cooperation," he continued as he made his way around passing out business cards.

"It is for your own good. Harbouring information will not be in your best interest. I assure you, we will eventually find out," the other one threatened.

Buster looked down at the card and gulped. He didn't know what these government goons wanted with Phantom, but it didn't look good.

"If you are done harassing my students, I would like to continue my lesson before the bell rings," Mr. Lancer interrupted, his foot tapping against the tiled floor impatiently.

"Not so fast, we still have one more order of business."

Lancer rolled his eyes as he waited for them to continue. Buster watched as the agent opened up a file folder he had been carrying and retrieved what looked to be a photo. "Do you know this boy?"

Buster couldn't see the picture, but as he witnessed his teacher's eyes widen, he paled. "Mr. Fenton? Well of course I do, he's the son of Amity's resident ghost hunters."

NO, No, no, no, no. His body went numb, he was going to throw up. How was he going to lie to government agents?! What had Danny done!

"Have you seen him within the last 12 hours?"

Mr. Lancer scratched his chin, "I can't say I have, but I don't teach him anymore. He's a junior."

Putting the photo back into place, the agents nodded. "We are aware of the fact but are required to perform a school wide search for the boy. He is believed to be a threat. Be alert of his presence." They advised solemnly.

An incredulous look broke out on his teachers face, "Gone With the Wind! Mr. Fenton is just a child, agents, not a threat!" he exclaimed.

With unwavering expressions, they turned away. "We beg to differ. Good day."

Buster was sweating buckets. The situation was a lot worse than he originally thought.

"I knew that guy was sketchy," a girl from behind him whispered to someone who hummed in agreement. The accusatory murmuring grew into a low rumble, trapping him within its walls. He felt some people look his way, his friendship with Danny was no secret.

Waiting for the agents to shut the door behind them, he shot his hand up in to the air.

"Yes Mr. Baxter?" Lancer sighed.

"Can I take up that offer to go to the Nurse? I don't feel so good," he croaked.

With a worried frown, he nodded. Buster didn't wait for any further instruction. Grabbing his stuff he bolted out of the room.

Reaching a bare wall, he slid down. Resting his head between his knees, he wrapped his arms around and took deep slow breaths. Counting to ten. Once he had his breathing under control, he loosened his arms but did not make any further movements. He wanted to go see Danny, make sure he was still there. But he knew leaving now would be suspicious. They would probably follow him.

Deep voices could be heard from down the hall. It was the agents, they were reporting to someone. Buster strained his ears so he could listen in, if they were looking for both Danny and Phantom, it was personal.

"We have to consider the fact that he was hit at least twice. No one in town has reported seeing him after our encounter, he's probably out of the picture. A person his size could not have gotten far, I believe we should stick to perusing Phantom."

* * *

Sighing in relief when the bell finally rang, he gathered up his half-written notes and swiftly left the room. Keeping his eyes on the ground, he avoided all eye contact. The agents were still occupying the school, despite what he had overheard. They may think Danny was dead, but it looked like they weren't going to take any chances. Casper High was also known as a frequent spot for Phantom's fights.

He slipped through the crowd as he made his way to the cafeteria, "Hey! Look who's here. How are you?" A familiar voice cried out as an arm was suddenly flung around his shoulder. Startled, looking to his side, he realized that it was just Tucker.

As the older boy directed him toward their regular table, Buster waved at Sam. "Good, I guess," he lied.

"That's a relief, I don't want to catch anything," Tucker grimaced as he let go of Buster and sat down.

"Tucker…" Sam reprimanded as she sat down beside her friend.

Turning to face Buster, "the catch up on work must be brutal huh?" she asked casually.

Buster studied both their faces, they seemed perfectly relaxed. It was as if they were blissfully unaware that their best friend was on the government's hit list, which was pretty impossible. The GIW had made it clear who they were on the lookout for. The constant staring directed towards their table was also pretty hard to ignore.

Stiffly, he nodded in a delayed response. "Uh, yeah. I haven't understood a word today."

She flashed a sympathetic smile, "I can help if you need it. Just give me a call if you are stuck on anything."

He smiled at her offer, "Thanks…" She was being pretty nice, now that he thought about it, it wasn't normal. Tucker was staring off behind him, glaring angrily at someone pretty uncharacteristically. Biting his lip, he realized that they both had deep purple bags underneath their eyes. They were worried, just really good at hiding it.

Turning to see what Tucker was looking at, he spotted a GIW agent that he hadn't seen yet keeping post at the doors. Buster's gaze wandered around the room, taking in the number of people who quickly shifted their eyes once he reached them. He made eye contact with a boy seated a few tables away.

Wes discreetly glanced at the agent, giving Buster a knowing look before shifting his eyes away to rejoin his conversation. Buster's mind instantly flashed to Danny, Wes had left him alone. They still had a few hours left of school, would he be alright till then?

"So what have you been up to?" Sam asked, sounding seemingly suspicious, as she unwrapped her sandwich.

Buster panicked, he raised up his arms in defense. "Nothing that has to do with Danny, if that's what you're asking."

She raised her eyebrow, Tucker directed his attention back towards him with an equally confused expression. She crossed her arms across her chest "…I wasn't asking that."

Buster blushed, "Oh." Shoot, he was terrible at this. Danny had told him to act normal, but he couldn't help but be on edge. The weight of the secret was too much. He didn't want to keep it a secret, they were his friends. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "So…" he started hesitantly, meeting their eyes. "Why are you guys so cool about these creepy guys looking for him? Aren't you worried?"

Shifted uncomfortably in her seat, Sam furrowed her brows and averted her gaze. "I…uh…" Buster had never seen her like this, she looked like she wanted to yell at him but was forcing herself to remain calm. Usually, she just yelled.

"Because we know Danny, and he's fine," Tucker interrupted, placing a hand on Sam's shoulder. Buster narrowed his eyes, Danny was not fine. Either these two trusted Danny a bit too much, were in on his crime, or were delusional. He couldn't decide which one it was.

"But how could you know for sure," he challenged. They hadn't seen him last night, they had no idea how deep this was.

Tucker hardened his look and silently watched him, sighing he leaned in and lowered his voice, "he messaged us last night," he started. Sam opened her mouth in protest but he held up his hand to stop her, "he's in a bit of trouble but he's okay. Relax, this will all blow over. He's staying out of sight until these idiots leave…we don't really know where he is but that's better if they interrogate us, we won't have to lie."

Buster was surprised Tucker had trusted him enough to tell him that. His mind went back to the memory of last night, the message he had sent before throwing away Danny's phone. It was some sort of code, which was the only contact Danny had with them as far as he could remember. Confused, "How did you get all of that out of c ya?" he mumbled, more to himself than the two around him.

"…what?" Sam stared at him with an accusing glare.

He widened his eyes, she wasn't supposed to hear him. Licking his lips, he shifted his eyes around nervously. "I…forget I said that," he tried weakly.

"You know where he is," She stated. It wasn't a question. Her whole demeanor had hardened. Her glare turned to steel, sending cold shivers down his spine.

"No I don't," Buster defended although he knew it was a losing battle.

"Buster…" She gritted angrily.

He looked away from her, closing his eyes he breathed through his nose. "Fine…but he told me not to tell you guys, I'm trying really hard to do that so please drop it."

He looked back up when she didn't say anything. Tucker had a pretty strong grip on her arm, willing her to calm down. She looked straight at him, as if challenging him. Did she think he was going to expose Danny? She really needed to trust him more.

"You didn't answer my question," Buster daringly prompted. What could he say, he was curious. All the mystery and unanswered questions around the situation was getting to him.

Letting go of Sam, Tucker adjusted his glasses. "Danny is kind of a magnet for trouble, some time back we made up a code for emergencies. Something that couldn't really be used against him you know? C Ya is Code Yellow. That means he's alright but needs to hide, the less we know the better. I don't know what you know but I'm sticking with Danny's plan. Don't tell us anything, don't tell the GIW anything. Pretend you never saw him."

"Got it…" Buster muttered, not used to the seriousness in Tucker's voice. They sat in awkward silence for the remainder of lunch, Sam was still glaring at him but he chose to ignore it. Tucker had returned to glaring at the agents. None of them really ate much.

"Tucker Foley and Sam Manson. Please report to the office immediately," A static filled voice echoed through the cafeteria. They both tensed up but kept their expressions cool and collected.

"How is he?" Tucker quietly asked, breaking his own rule, as they began clearing the table.

Buster looked away, "I'm not sure," he said honestly.

Sam sighed, running her fingers through her hair, "tell him he's an idiot."

At that, Buster grinned. "I'm planning on it."

* * *

Standing on the sidewalk, Buster scanned the area. Finally finding who he was looking for, "Wait up!"

Without turning around, Wes stopped in his tracks, throwing his head slightly back. "Ugh, what do you want? Can't a guy get some peace and quiet, it was bad enough I had to deal with Fenton this morning. I was supposed to have the house to myself for a whole week, stupid jerk," he grumbled but Buster ignored him mostly, clinging to the information he needed.

"So he was awake? He's okay?"

Wes turned his head slightly towards him, smirking slyly as they walked away from the school. "You had any doubts?"

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, "Well there could have been internal damage you know, he's going to need a hospital eventually," Buster stated.

"Nah, he can pull through. A hospital is not really a place for him. He's not the same as you and me, if you catch what I'm saying" The ginger replied casually.

Buster wondered how many times Danny got into these sorts of messes, everyone else seemed to think he was invincible. "Not really," he mumbled.

"You will. Eventually," Buster just shook his head, he had almost forgotten Wes had a screw loose.

He kept quiet, eyes trained straight ahead. A few minutes later, he heard a tired sigh from beside him, "dude you need to stop worrying, the guy may look helpless but he can take care of himself. Believe me."

Shrugging his shoulders, "I guess a stalker is a pretty good source…"

Wes rolled his eyes, "I do what I have to do."

Buster turned his head to look at him, the expression on the taller boy's face was unreadable. He really couldn't understand why Wes was helping. "So why haven't you reported him yet?"

Grinning strangely, "To the GIW?" he asked as if holding back some sort of inside joke.

Buster nodded, "Yeah, or the police." It really didn't make any sense, Wes had to have known about other things Danny had done. Why didn't he bother doing anything with the information?

"Because, that's not how I work."

Buster looked down at the concrete floor in confusion, he didn't realize for a few seconds as the steps beside him halted. Turning around he saw Wes staring at something, he retraced his steps to stand beside the boy and looked out onto the other side of the street. There was a large truck-like vehicle parked haphazardly outside a random building, a couple of people standing around arguing.

What caught his attention was the huge picture of a boy hanging off of the vehicle, it was Danny. Jack and Maddie Fenton were shouting loudly, waving their arms around animatedly as they argued with half a dozen GIW agents. Buster couldn't hear what they were saying exactly, but he could take a wild guess. Another person stood at the side next to Danny's parents, arms crossed, a deadly look upon his face. The mayor. Buster swallowed, he wished he had never got involved in this whole thing.

"You know they are the ones who shot him right?" he said quietly.

Wes turned away from the scene, continuing on their path, "Yeah, I know."

"Who would shoot a kid?" he asked, trying hard not to let the terror he felt show through his tone.

"A long list of people if the kid's as dangerous as Fenton, but to be fair, the GIW don't really give a crap about human lives."

Buster balled his hands in anger and frustration. "I just can't wrap my head around this."

"What?" Wes prompted in a slightly bored voice.

"Danny, he's a completely different person than I thought he was but yet somehow he's the same." He confessed, a tired frown on his face.

"You're on to something there dude," Wes supplied mischievously as they turned the corner to his street.

Buster ignored his unnerving smirk. He felt so confused. He just wanted to go home, curl up under the covers and forget about this entire god awful week. The entire year. But he couldn't.

There was a small spot of blood on the side walk, hardly noticeable if you weren't looking. But Buster could see it, it made his stomach churn. He held back a gag as horrible memories of practically dragging Danny across town resurfaced.

Following Wes up the steps, he watched as he turned the key in the lock. Holding his breath as he heard the click, he waited for Wes to enter before coming in behind him. The house was quiet. Danny wouldn't really be making a lot of noise by himself, he supposed.

Letting his eyes wander over to the empty stained couch, he lifted an eyebrow. He looked over to Wes who carried an indifferent expression as he threw his stuff down. Buster stood awkwardly, afraid, but not sure why.

He made his way into the living room as Wes disappeared down the hall. Just as he sat down, he sprang back up to hit feet at the sound of a shout.

"Fenton!"

Running towards the sound, he gasped. "Danny!"

The boy in question was lying flat on his stomach, limbs splayed out, head on the side in the middle of the hallway. He was unconscious, a small bruise on his forehead that wasn't there last night. Wes kneeled down, shaking the boy. "Dude, what the hell. Wake up!"

Buster's pulse quickened, it was just as he thought. Danny was dying, they should have never listened to him. Staying alive was more important than staying out of jail.

After a few more shakes, his eyes fluttered open. "Huh... Oh hey Wes, what are you doing back already?" he slurred, scrunching his eyes at the bright light.

Wes got back up to his feet and crossed his arms, "School's over twerp, now get off the ground."

Still dazed, Danny looked around him. Blushing as he realized where he was, "uh, right," he mumbled.

Attempting to push himself off the hall floor, He glanced behind Wes. "Hi Buster," he winced.

Not able to look straight at him, Buster sighed, "Hey."

"Shit, stop. You tore your stiches," Wes suddenly exclaimed, putting a hand on Danny shoulder to restrict his movement. Buster turned back only to see a growing line of red seeping through his borrowed shirt.

Covering it with his hand, Danny shrugged Wes off. "No, its fine. Leave it." Getting to his feet, he wobbled. Trying to keep his weight off his injured knee, he steadied himself by gripping the wall. Danny looked terrible, there was no colour to his skin. His eyes were sunken in, appearing hollow. His black hair matted with sweat, and if you looked closely, he was shaking.

Buster rolled his eyes, "it's obviously not fine Danny." Walking up to him he offered his support which Danny quietly accepted as they made their way back to the living room. Wes looked unsure of what to do for a moment, then disappeared upstairs. Coming back down, he placed a clean shirt on the sofa and reopened the first aid kit. He looked kind of green, Buster knew how he felt.

Danny noticed the look, offering his hand out, he gestured for the kit. Buster wanted to protest as Wes passed it over without a fight but couldn't find his voice. He didn't really know how to deal with torn stiches anyway. Silently, they watched as Danny took care of his own wound with skill.

"So, how's the outside world doing in my absence?" he asked, pain artfully hidden from in his voice.

Buster swallowed, forcing himself to look away from the awful sight. "The whole town is crawling with goons," he informed.

Wes cleared his throat, "The Guys in White," he stated with a strange inclination in his voice. Communicating something to Danny that Buster couldn't pick up on.

Danny grunted, "Figured as much."

Buster couldn't help but feel angry at the boy's carefree attitude. "They think you're dead," he supplied in an attempt to elicit some emotion.

Danny looked up, meeting his eyes. He bobbed his head side to side in apparent contemplation. "That's…good."

He wrinkled his forehead in frustration. "They're also looking for Phantom, I haven't seen him in a while actually. Do you know where he is?"

Wes, bizarrely enough, giggled. "He's closer than you think."

Danny shot him a look before grinning, "Don't worry about him."

So he knew. "This thing that you did, Phantom helped you do it?" But Phantom was a hero. He wouldn't help commit crimes. Right? A horrible cover of doubt formed in his mind.

"Buster, don't ask questions. Please," Danny whispered while finishing up with his bandages.

His voice was so gentle and kind that it only made Buster angrier. "You can't expect me to just sit back and watch!" he yelled.

"That's exactly what I expect you to do. This isn't a big deal. Once they give up on looking for me, they'll leave."

Clenching his jaw, Buster stared at Danny incredulously. "Then what?" he prompted in a dangerously calm voice.

Danny sighed, gesturing for Wes to pass over the new shirt. "Nothing, we won't have to worry about them then," he proclaimed as he caught the garment and slipped it on.

"I don't believe you, you're up to something. You're lying to me," Buster stated, getting up to point an accusing finger in Danny's drained face.

Danny looked at the finger then back at him. His eyes narrowed, gaze hardening. "You don't need to be here Buster."

He backed up at the harshness of Danny's tone. Crossing his arms in defiance, "yeah I do," he argued.

Danny leaned back and closed his eyes. "Well, I don't want you here," he bit out angrily. Buster couldn't believe it, Danny was mad at him.

"I don't want either of you here really," Wes interjected dryly, getting up and walking over to the kitchen.

Danny smiled slightly at the comment but quickly turned his attention back to Buster. "Just leave. Don't come back. I'll see you when this is over."

Exasperated, Buster ran his fingers through his hair. This guy was impossible. "Why can't you just trust me enough to tell me the truth?"

"It's not about trust. You just don't need to be involved," Danny stubbornly grumbled

"I'm already involved!" he screamed louder than necessary, "I really wish I wasn't, but I can't just forget about it now! You're hurt, I'm usually the dumb one but even I can see that you're being an idiot. You need a doctor!" His chest heaved from the outburst, all the pent up anger leaving him. His eyes burned with emotion.

Danny fixed him under a guilty look, sadness gleaming in his blue eyes. Buster decided he hated that look. It was too deceiving.

"I'm sorry," Danny sighed, "Please I'm fine. Just go."

Staring at the stubborn boy with raw fury, Buster grit his teeth. Without another word, he grabbed his bag and walked out the front door, slamming it loudly behind him.


	14. Chapter 14: A Deal with the Devil

Idly pulling the fuzz off the fabric of the couch's arm, Danny replayed his argument with Buster in his head. He felt bad, he wished he hadn't lost his temper. The kid was worried, it was nice, but he just didn't understand. There were many more lives at stake than his own.

Wes had returned from the kitchen, placed a plate of food in front of him, and sat back into his own seat. Danny glanced at him, flashing him an appreciative grin and reached down to pick up the plate. He tried hard to hold back the wince from bending down, but Wes caught it nonetheless. "Dude, I've seen you get injured brutally before only to find you in school the next day. I always thought you had some sort of healing powers, what gives?"

Danny rubbed the back of his neck. He had been wondering the same thing. "I…I should have healed by now. But, honestly, I feel worse than last night," he admitted, plopping a bit of food into his mouth.

They ate in silence, Wes occasionally glanced at him with a scrutinizing stare. When Danny was finished, Wes grabbed the plate out of his hands and rose to put it away. Returning, he crossed his arms and bit his bottom lip"…You can't actually die right?"

Meeting his gaze, Danny raised his brow. "Uhm…well it is possible, if that's what you mean."

"But you are a ghost," Wes deadpanned, confusion written all over his face.

Danny shook his head, finding it hard not to laugh. "I'm not a dead ghost, I'm as alive as you," he explained. Looking down at his pale hands, "Well, most of the time," he added bitterly.

A heavy breath was let out across from him, he glanced at the ginger who seemed to be in deep thought. "Maybe the kid is right."

Danny rolled his eyes, unable to keep the annoyance out his voice. "He's right, but I can't go to the hospital. They won't give a damn about how alive I am, you know that."

"I know, I know…" he trailed off scratching his head in thought. "It's your stomach wound that has the worst of it," he voiced. Turning his head towards him, "Hm?" Danny questioned. Wes straitened up, gesturing towards him. "The shoulder and knee seem to actually be doing alright for a normal human, but I think they stabbed you pretty deep."

Danny nodded in agreement, "The bullets were aimed at Fenton but they stabbed Phantom with a ghost weapon that I haven't seen before, it was glowing a strange colour and kind of smelled funny," he explained. The reason behind his state was actually pretty obvious if he really thought about it but he was just reluctant to admit it to himself.

"Do you think it had something that's messing with your powers?" Wes pressed.

"Maybe, I haven't tried going ghost since they can track my signature." Danny shrugged, "I threw up before I passed out in the hall though." He bit his lip, holding back a laugh as Wes made a disgusted face.

"It doesn't take Sherlock to figure it out then."

Leaning back, Danny rubbed his temple with his uninjured arm. Shaking his head in defeat, "I was poisoned." he didn't want to say it out loud, but deep down he knew from the moment the sharp object pierced his skin. He was dying. Without help, he couldn't do anything to stop it.

"I guess a hospital wouldn't be much help after all," the ginger across from him stated as he worriedly fiddled with the hem of his shirt. Danny smiled at the concern.

"Yeah, its effects are probably slow on me since I'm not a full ghost," he mused. It made sense if the strain was developed to exterminate ghosts. It wouldn't be potent enough to kill a halfa on spot.

"Dude, you're killing me with all this open ghost talk. I would have all the evidence I need if I just recorded this conversation."

Chuckling at Wes's sudden outburst, Danny shook his head. "It wasn't me who decided to change the rules of the game. That was all you." Wes glared at him, pouting childishly. Danny snickered at his expression, enjoying teasing the boy more than he should.

After a few moments of silence, he was overcome by a wave of exhaustion. He yawned and pushed himself to lay down for a nap. Just as he was drifting off, "so what are you gonna do then?" Wes pushed, irritating Danny slightly. "It's obvious you're getting weaker"

Sighing, Danny opened his eyes and looked at the boy. He didn't want it to come to this, but it was really his only option. "There's someone I know that can probably get me the antidote…" he disclosed. Making a decision, he gently pushed himself back into a sitting position, "guess I gotta make a deal with the devil."

Wes raised his brow amusedly, a curious smile on his lips. "Look at you, teaming up with your enemies all willy-nilly."

Rolling his eyes playfully, "You're not my enemy," Danny giggled.

Crossing his arms angrily, Wes turned his face away from him. "Well you're certainly mine."

"Sure buddy, whatever helps you sleep at night," Danny grinned, "So could I borrow your phone? I kinda threw mine away."

"Jeez Fenton, what do you have against phones?"

* * *

At the sound of knocking on the back door, Wes locked eyes with Danny before turning off the TV. Danny grumbled in annoyance, it was just getting to the good part.

Getting up, Wes stretched his long limbs. They had been cooped up in the living room for hours, Danny was impressed that Wes had actually stayed. He strolled over towards the sound through the kitchen. Turning the knob, Wes pulled open the door to reveal a man standing behind it, shielded from the pouring rain under a large black umbrella.

Wes' eyes widened, "Mayor Masters?" He sputtered in shock and fear.

"Good evening child, this is the Weston residence, am I correct?" The man greeted, a condescending smirk on his lips.

"Uh…I…it is," Wes managed to say. Danny rolled his eyes at the boy's nervous behaviour, some stalker he was.

"You got the right place, I'm here Unky Vlad," he called out tiredly causing two pairs of eyes to turn in his direction.

"You called the Mayor?" Wes asked in disbelief as he moved aside to allow Vlad access into the house, "I thought you said this 'someone' was a devil."

Danny shrugged, "Same difference."

Shaking out his umbrella, Vlad narrowed his eyes at him. "This better be worth my time Daniel, I do not appreciate having to sneak around in the rain."

"So you know him?" Wes scratched his scruffy ginger hair, "How did I miss that?"

Smiling at the confused expression on the boy's face, "He's my dear old Uncle, isn't that right Unky Vlad," Danny informed as he waited for the pair to seat themselves around him.

"Don't test me child," Vlad growled as he uncomfortably descended into the worn arm chair. Turning to Wes who was silently watching him, "now if you could run along we would like to have a private conversation," the man demanded.

Narrowing his eyes immediately, "I'm not going anywhere," Wes defied with his arms crossed.

The calm expression on Vlad's face quickly melted into irritation, "you will do as I say you little brat."

Wes was not affected, his earlier apprehension towards the man completely vanished as he leaned back comfortably. "My house, my rules. I'm staying."

Finding the exchange highly amusing, Danny laughed softly. "It's okay Vlad, he knows about me."

Turning his glaring eyes away from the smirking ginger, Vlad stared at Danny with a questioning brow. "Honestly Danny, are you so incapable of keeping a measly secret?"

"I didn't call you here so you could nag me," Danny whined. He wished he didn't need the man's help. It was kind of embarrassing, even if they had been at the flip side of the situation many times before.

Fixing him under a scrutinizing glare, Vlad crossed his arms and rested his ankle on his knee. "Well then would you care to explain why those bumbling fools have invaded my town looking for not only Danny Phantom but Fenton as well? Why you look as if death is knocking at your door and why you are hiding out in some dingy old town house? You have gotten yourself into quite a pickle, my dear boy, and I can't say that I'm surprised."

Gritting his teeth and refraining from rolling eyes, "Long story short, I wreaked mayhem at one of their secret facilities, they got a couple of hits in, and now I'm poisoned."

"That leaves a lot of unanswered questions Daniel," Vlad replied calmly, his expression unwavering.

"I know, I'll explain everything…" Danny promised, "But do you think you can find an antidote?"

At the sound of Danny's desperate plea, a wide grin broke out on Vlad's face. He leaned back, "I most probably could…but there is no certainty that I will."

Danny wanted to punch that smile off his face, but he knew that he was in no shape for combat. "Come on Fruit-loop, I know you don't want me to die."

Vlad raised his shoulders, an amused gleam in his eyes. "Au contraire Little Badger, your death may benefit me a great deal. Imagine a world without your insolent chatter; heaven if there ever was one," he sneered menacingly.

Wes snorted from his spot. "Dude, you really are the devil."

Danny couldn't help but snicker at the glare Vlad sent Wes's way. "But you don't really want that, now do you V-man?"

They studied each other, both glaring daggers until a small smile tugged at the man's lips. "You got me there. Heaven is rather overrated."

Danny looked towards Wes who had been watching Vlad, confusion apparent in his eyes. Wes flickered his gaze towards him, raising his brow. Danny grinned shaking his head playfully. His relationship with Vlad was baffling to say the least.

"Will you do it?" He asked the man hopefully, hating how broken he sounded.

Vlad dusted invisible dust off of his sleeve, "We'll see, I need the full story before I make my decisions. I'm a thorough man, Danny, I don't make blind deals."

Breathing through his nose in annoyance, Danny relented. "Fine, I'll tell you. But I don't need you telling me how stupid my actions were, okay?"

With his best evil smirk, Vlad shrugged. "I'm not making any promises my boy."

"Neither am I," Wes added, his own smirk growing at his lips.

Wondering why he chose these two to help him, Danny shook his head. "…Whatever."

He looked away from them. Resting his head against the backrest, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "A little over a week ago I came across a suspicious building in the middle of nowhere…there was a makeshift graveyard behind it." He paused, taking his time to clear through the terrible memory of that night.

"The sign was kinda worn out but I recognized the GIW logo. There were a lot of graves Vlad, they were killing people." He heard a breath hitch at his words, but didn't turn around to take in their expressions. "I asked Tucker to help me hack into their system, I didn't tell him about the graves but he still agreed. It was a lot harder than I thought, but after a few days of digging we finally found files about a top secret project taking place at that location. Tucker couldn't unseal the files, he said they needed to access the hard drive manually, so I asked him to disarm the security system. I knew they were up to something that had to be illegal, if I could get those files I could shut down the operation." He explained, his voice growing softer the longer he spoke. He never realized how tiring it could be to just talk.

"You broke into a GIW facility for files?" Vlad's patronising voice questioned.

Irritation prickled all over his body. "Would you just let me tell the story?" he bit out shakily, opening his eyes to glare at the man. He simply narrowed his eyes but said nothing further, so Danny proceeded. "When I got there, I was easily able to phase through the walls without alerting the system since the security was down but I didn't realize that the ghost shields had a manual generator…"

A low groan interrupted his story once again, "Daniel, you can't be serious. You willingly walked into that building in your human form? That was incredibly idiotic." Wes snickered at his expense, apparently agreeing with Vlad's statement.

Anger and embarrassment bubbled inside him. "I know, I wasn't thinking straight. But, what was I supposed to do?"

Vlad rolled his eyes. "Go back home? Anything other than blatantly walk into unnecessary danger?" he posed, as if it were the most obvious answer.

"It wasn't unnecessary!" Danny argued, pushing himself into a more guarded position, "People are dying, I couldn't just call it quits."

"Well you could have just called the cops and let them handle the murder case," Wes scoffed, a smug expression on his infuriating face.

With anger fueling his sudden surge of energy, Danny turned his head sharply. "As if they would have believed me without evidence!"

Wes raised his brow mockingly, "I think a bunch of sketchy graves outside a building is enough evidence. You could have just called it in last week and none of us would have to be here," he stated, as if it were that simple.

"They're a government agency, you don't think they would conduct a cover up?" Danny growled, "The police wouldn't be enough and you know it."

Wes glared, the self-satisfied smirk slowly disappearing as he considered Danny's words.

Apparently having enough of the argument, Vlad interjected, "just continue."

Taking a few more seconds to glower, Danny leaned back once again, the exhaustion slowly but surely taking control. "I transformed and walked right though the shields, there were a lot of individual ones covering each room. I knew I was supposed to look for a control room of some sort and it seemed like no one was there, so I wandered and snooped. The place was huge, I kinda got lost for a god knows how long. After a whole lot of nothing, I heard a noise from underneath the floor. I tried phasing through but I realized there was another shield surrounding the bottom floor so I looked around for a staircase…" He stopped as his speech began to slur and his breathing became strained. Clutching his chest as his lungs constricted, he wheezed. His eyes were shut in pain.

Moments later a cool hand was placed on his shoulder. Looking up, he found a glass of water being offered his way. Gratefully accepting the offer, he relieved the burning in his chest and smiled at Wes who simply nodded and sat back down. Danny sighed, it was getting worse.

Flicking his gaze towards Vlad, he was surprised to find a hint of worry in his hard eyes. He looked down at his hands, not wanting the pity, and continued. "Finding it wasn't really as hard as I thought, I walked right down into an extremely dark basement. I couldn't see where I was going so I made a small ecto-ball in my hand and began looking around. I found a bunch of computers and junk so I dug through the files until I found what I was looking for," he explained half-coherently.

"You're telling me that you did all this without alerting the agents and you still managed to get caught in the end?" Vlad asked skeptically.

"Can't you just shut your big mouth and listen?" he spat, more annoyed at himself than anything.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, "The files…they were horrifying. I didn't know what I was expecting but I wasn't expecting this." He bit his lip as memories of the information he uncovered bombarded him. Guilt seeped into his soul; he had left so many people behind.

"Out with it child," the man grumbled impatiently.

Danny flicked his eyes to meet Vlad's before he spoke, his already weak voice cracking. "Experiments Vlad. Hundreds of thousands of them. On ghosts and humans both. They've been abducting people from all over the country, or at least paying someone for them. More than half of them didn't even have missing person's reports in their files… They're targeting high risk victims. You know; runaways, homeless, prostitutes… I knew the GIW were inhumane but I didn't think they would outright mutilate and murder people for research."

He shivered, making sure to avoid looking over at Wes. He didn't need to witness the horror on the boy's face. He wished with all his might that people like the GIW didn't exist.

"What were they doing?" Vlad inquired in a surprisingly soft voice, probably sensing Danny's distress.

"I…I'm not sure"

The man wrinkled his forehead in thought, "Do you have the files?" he asked.

"Do you want them?" Danny counter-questioned.

"Yes."

Studying the man through slightly lidded eyes, "I'll give them to you if you promise me something."

Vlad rolled his eyes at Danny's childish behaviour, "I'm not fond of making promises Little Badger"

Unfazed, Danny pushed on. "I'll hand them over right now if you get me an antidote and have the information published in all the news sources, big and small, all over the country."

Vlad was quiet, considering the offer. Danny knew it was a pretty fair deal, he wasn't asking much. "I'll let you know once you finish your little tale," the man finally stated.

Looking at Vlad incredulously, "Why do I have to finish," he disputed feebly, not wanting to retell the end of his encounter, "It doesn't really make a difference."

Casually shrugging, "Humor me."

Danny bit the inside of his cheek, "Fine..." he breathed. "I didn't realize that accessing the files could trip another alarm system… but just as I secured the information, doors from the top floor burst open. I panicked, I thought about going ghost but I knew that I wouldn't be able to leave the place like that so I ran further into the basement to hide."

Ignoring the judgemental sounds the two made, he sipped his water and carried on. "They came straight down, I guess there really was nothing important above ground. There was a lot of shouting, my memory kind of goes fuzzy at this point… I remember the door to the room I was in getting kicked open, I backed up and hit something smooth and hard. It was glowing slightly in the dark; a glass cage. Ghosts were trapped inside, suspended in some sort of liquid. I was distracted, I didn't notice the agents coming up behind me but I ducked just in time and ran. They saw that I was just a snooping kid but they were still relentless. I don't know what ghost hunters were doing with human guns but I guess when you're in the human trafficking business on the side, you learn to carry some around. I did a pretty good job at dodging the bullets, but I tripped, that's when they got my shoulder."

"You were shot?" Vlad abruptly exclaimed, Danny coughed slightly but ignored him. "I probably should have tried to escape and turn invisible at this point, but I couldn't just leave the ghosts trapped there…"

"Oh please Danny, I can't believe your foolishness…"

Choosing to ignore him once again, he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "The GIW aren't as clever as they think they are because I spotted a big red release button on the wall on the other side of the room, so naturally I made a dive for it. It was a pretty incredible stunt, you should have been there," he bragged, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "I got to the button and released the ghosts but not before they hit me again. I figured there was enough chaos so I hid behind something and went ghost. I really don't know what happened after that, there were ghosts everywhere. I eventually found the shield generator and blasted it, I don't know how many of the ghosts escaped, but I bolted. The buffoons recognized Phantom and followed me. We fought for a long time, I can't say for sure when I lost them…I passed out when I got back to amity."

Concluding his story, he swallowed the bile that had risen in his throat and waited for a response, however they were both quiet. They didn't seem to have trouble talking during the story, he mentally grumbled. "I know they've got humans locked up in there somewhere Vlad, I don't care how heartless you are, you have to help me," he tried desperately.

Vlad uncrossed his legs. Scooting slightly, leaning closer to him, "I'll help you Daniel."

Danny widened his eyes as well as his heavy lids allowed. Quickly looking over at Wes who wore an equally surprised expression, "really?"

Vlad waved his hand down, "don't get too excited…I've got my own reasons," the man stated cryptically.

Danny shrugged, he was too tired to be wary of the guy's full intentions. "As long as you keep your promise."

"Hand over the files then," he demanded, getting right down to business.

Not moving his gaze away from the man's face, Danny placed a hand on his forearm and phased out a microchip. Enjoying the genuine astonishment apparent on Vlad's features, he smirked.

"Hm," Vlad muttered as he made his way over to retrieve the chip, "I guess you are capable of some intelligent thought after all."

* * *

Settling back down once Vlad took his leave, a sample of Danny's blood safely tucked away, Wes turned the TV back on. "Do you really trust that guy?" he wondered aloud.

Keeping his eyes trained at the screen, Danny shook his head without needing anytime to ponder over the question. "I don't trust him, I'd be stupid to."

"…and yet you placed your life in his hands. Genius," Wes mocked with a disbelieving snort as he flipped through the channels.

Danny grinned, pushing some of the sweaty hair out of his face, "he's too attached to kill me Wes. That I'm sure of."

Wes considered him for a minute before getting up to head into the kitchen, "Whatever you say, Little Badger."

Danny made a face at the embarrassing nick name, grumbling at the boy who chuckled in triumph at finally getting on Danny's nerves.

Finishing up their heated pre-frozen dinner and terrible TV movie, Danny yawned, fighting to keep his eyes open. Quietly, Wes cleared their plates and began washing the dishes. He felt bad, he wanted to help but he could hardly stand straight. He didn't want Wes to take care of him like this but Danny hadn't given the boy much of a choice.

"Hey, you should probably sleep in a bed. Do you think you can climb the stairs?" Wes's voice filtered through his fuzzy mind.

Danny had somehow fallen asleep mid-thought. Smiling up at him, Danny sleepily shook his head. He didn't want to be any more trouble than he already was. "Maybe, but I'm okay really"

Wes rolled his eyes, "Shut up, I'm trying to be considerate," he said as he helped him to his feet. "If you die, I don't want making you sleep on the couch on my conscience."

Gripping the boy tightly for support as they headed for the steps, Danny giggled. "Oh, how selfless of you."

Wes directed him into his room, helping Danny into the bed. After making sure everything was set, "just don't give out in your sleep, a dead body in your bed is something no one can recover from," he jabbed as he walked towards the door.

Danny shifted on the mattress to face the retreating boy, "Wes?" he called out quietly.

"Hm?" the boy answered, reaching out to flick the switch.

"Thanks for spending the day with me." Danny hated how small his voice sounded as he spoke, but he was truly grateful the boy hadn't left him alone. He didn't think he could handle that.

Noticing the look on Danny's face, Wes frowned, pulled his hand back, and came back into the room. "Hey, I was only joking. You're gonna pull through this like you always do, dude," he said, his voice gentle. Danny thought it was strange to hear him sound that way, but he didn't comment on it.

He had never felt this vulnerable before, sure it wasn't the closest he's ever been to death but this time felt different. Without Wes, he would be completely alone. His friends and family had no idea where or how he was. He looked up to meet the boy's eyes, "I'm scared," he confessed softly. He could barely hear himself, but by the reaction on Wes' features, he knew the boy heard him.

Awkwardly threading his fingers through his ginger hair, Wes cleared his throat. "…I was going to go sleep in my dad's room but if you want me to stay in here… I can take the floor."

Danny contemplated letting him go, making him sleep on the ground was really pushing it, but he couldn't bring himself to decline the offer. "Thanks."


	15. Chapter 15: Just One Mistake

Splashing ice cold water on his face, Buster stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He hadn't slept a wink last night. Opting to stay away from the park, he lay awake staring at the ceiling for hours. The purple bags under his eyes were becoming a permanent fixture on his pale face. His cheeks looked slightly sunken in; he hadn't been eating as much lately. Sighing, he turned away and grabbed his towel.

He wished he didn't have to go to school. He never wanted to go there ever again, he just wanted to go back home and forget about this place. Forget about all the ghosts. Forget about Phantom. Forget about Danny.

He missed Arthur, they hadn't talked for a few days…he was probably worried. He wondered what it would take for his Dad to come and pick him up so they could visit Elwood city. If only for a while.

"Hon? You alright?" his aunt's voice asked gently, pulling him out of his thoughts. Looking around, he realized he had been loitering in the kitchen doorway like a creep. Shaking himself, he nodded with a small smile and took a seat at the breakfast table.

She seemed satisfied and continued bustling around, however, the same could not be said about a certain blond jock sitting across from him. The boy was staring intently at him, not even trying to hide it. Buster rolled his eyes and placed the cereal box between them to obscure Dash's view. It seemed to work as Dash got up a few minutes later, leaving him to finish his breakfast in peace.

Mechanically finishing up getting ready, he grabbed his backpack and walked out of the door. His eyes landed on his cousin, sitting on the hood of his car scrolling through his phone. At the sound of the door slamming shut, he looked up and smiled. "Need a ride?" he asked hopefully.

Buster shrugged, "I feel like walking actually," he said rudely and walked past the car towards the sidewalk, careful not to splash in the large puddle from last night's thunderstorm. He heard a sigh and wasn't surprised when heavy footsteps followed behind him. "I guess a little exercise wouldn't hurt" Dash supplied, trying a bit too hard to sound cheery.

Deciding against arguing, Buster retreated into himself, ignoring the ramblings of his cousin. He was kicking a small bottle cap he had found when a strange sound from above him caught his attention. Stopping, he shielded his eyes from the bright morning sun to see what was making the noise.

Three aircrafts hovered over the tops of Amity's highest buildings, seemingly scoping out the area. 'Day two of the search', he thought bitterly.

He just wished this whole thing would end, he didn't care how.

A small ball of guilt coiled in the pit of his stomach, he pushed it down and continued dragging his feet across the concrete.

"Do you think they really killed him?" Dash whispered, Buster only then noticed that the boy hadn't said anything for a while. Surprised, Buster turned to take in his cousin's appearance. He looked pretty distraught, his hands were balled up into tight fists. Knuckles completely white. If he looked closely, his eyes were red as if he hadn't slept all night either.

"Why would you say that?" he asked.

Dash shrugged his shoulders, "There's this rumor goin 'round, some guys overheard a few of the agents talking…they aren't even looking for Fenton anymore." Buster didn't respond, for all he knew they had killed the boy. He could have died any time after Buster left him. The thought made his blood run cold, but he hid the horror from his face, determined to hold onto his anger towards the guy.

"…I just can't believe he could be gone." Dash sighed, a faraway look in his eye.

Buster glanced at him curiously, "I don't get why you've always cared so much about him, it's not like you guys are friends."

Biting his lip, Dash darted his eyes away from him. "I've known him since we were kids…death is death Buster," he stated sadly, "I thought you'd be more upset about this."

Buster furrowed his brows, oh he was upset alright. "Well it's not like he's innocent, I should have listened to you in September and never become friends with him."

He sensed the older boy tense his muscles further. "How can you say that? The guy could be dead!" he scolded, his voice cracking just a bit.

Pulling his shoulders up in an attempt to shrink into himself. "Trust me, I know," he mumbled.

Dash ran a hand down his face, "what's wrong with you?" he asked but Buster ignored him. He didn't want to talk about this. They were almost at school anyway, a couple more blocks left. He started to count his breaths to distract himself. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6…

"…I just can't bring myself to feel bad for a criminal, that's all," he admitted abruptly.

Dash stopped walking and turned to him, a brow raised. "How are you so sure he's a criminal all of a sudden?"

Reluctantly stopping as well, Buster looked up to the sky at the aircrafts which were visible again. "Why else would the government be after him."

"Look, I know what I've said before, and I still stand by it, but this is different. Phantom is involved." Dash said, as if it explained everything.

"Why does that make it any different for Danny?" he challenged.

"Because Doofus, Fenton was helping Phantom…duh."

Overnight, his anger for Danny had somehow transferred over to his ghostly friend. Phantom had helped Danny with whatever it was that he won't talk about. Whatever he was hiding from him. Phantom probably wasn't as trustworthy as he seemed either, Buster wasn't that great of a judge in character. "How would you even know that?"

Harshly stuffing his hands into his pockets, Dash starting walking once again. It was probably a good idea, it was getting pretty late. The bell was going to ring soon. "It just makes sense I guess." he shrugged, "Paulina had made the connection first…somehow Fenton has been friends with the ghost since freshman year. Obviously, Fentonio messed with the GIW for something Phantom needed…you know for hero stuff. It's something serious too because, usually, Phantom is seen fighting those guys off. He's much stronger and cooler than them…but he's missing too. He didn't even show up when a ghost attacked the mall yesterday."

Buster bit the inside of his cheek, knowing that Dash's words held truth. Exhaling through his nose, "So, Phantom could have done something wrong. He's not a saint."

Dash just shook his head, "He's a hero. There's no way," he said confidently, "Besides, the GIW are jerks…the whole thing is probably their fault." Then later as an afterthought, "I just can't believe he let Fenton die," he whispered.

Buster closed his eyes, Dash was right…he should trust Phantom, the ghost who saved humans, more than the GIW, the humans that didn't think twice about shooting other humans, shouldn't he?

Swallowing his anger, he sighed. It was all so tiring, but he knew he couldn't just ignore the situation like he wanted to. He had to go see Danny. He needed to apologize for yelling at him.

The school finally came into view, a GIW car parked out in front. The sight of it made him want to turn around and run back home. That wasn't really an option though... Dash would probably freak out, run after him and then he would have to explain. The boy was disturbed enough anyway.

Trying to smile reassuringly, he turned to Dash. "They're just rumors, he might still be alive. Danny wouldn't let go that easily."

* * *

The hazy cloud of his mind thinned slightly as he felt a sharp pinch in his arm. He wrinkled his nose, squishing his eyes shut tighter, he let out a small irritated sound. His body tensed out of habit, bringing his other arm up, he swatted at the source of the feeling.

There was a soft chuckle. A light weight on his forehead. His hair was gently brushed aside in a soothing motion in an obvious effort to calm him down, it felt nice. Probably his mom.

Smiling slightly, he allowed himself to lean into the touch. The fog gradually thickened as he relaxed, finding is way back into the comfort of unconsciousness.

Hours later, Danny groaned, lifting his arm to rub his sweaty face. Opening his eyes, he squinted around his room to take in the familiar surroundings. Except, they weren't familiar in the slightest. It wasn't his room. His mind went into overdrive as he immediately started to panic.

Where was he? Who had taken him? He remembered the pinch, had someone drugged him? Just when he was about to leap out of the strange bed, his eyes landed on someone across the room. Wes?

Then it all came crashing back.

He released the tension in the muscles, "What time is it?" he asked groggily as he dropped his head back onto the pillow.

"A quarter past two, I was beginning to think you were gonna sleep all day." The boy replied without turning around. He was sitting at his desk, typing away on his computer. Snacks were strewn all over the wooden surface as if he'd been there all day.

"You skipped school?" Danny asked, pushing the blanket away as he attempted to hoist himself into a sitting position. The task was surprisingly easier than he had thought.

"Didn't want a repeat of yesterday…so how are you feeling?" Wes said, closing something up and turning his chair to face him.

Danny looked down at himself, wiggled his toes and then his fingers. He took a deep breath, winced slightly, but it didn't really hurt as much as it should. "By golly I think I'm cured!" he joked, a goofy grin plastered on his face.

Wes rolled his eyes, but Danny could see the smile trying to break free. "Mayor Masters was here this morning…he injected you with something." the boy informed him. Danny nodded, Vlad came through after all. "The creep stayed and watched you sleep for like two hours," he added, popping a chip into his mouth.

Cringing inwardly as he realized who was stroking his hair this morning, Danny shrugged. "Well that's Vlad for you, creep of the year." Bringing his hand up, he brushed his hair back onto his forehead as a small act of defiance, he hated when Vlad tried to get all fatherly. However, he had to admit, he owed the man. "But he was probably making sure there were no side effects."

Wes nodded his head slowly, "I guess…it was still weird to watch though." Danny grinned at the boy who was openly admitting to watching Vlad staring at Danny for two hours and found nothing creepy about his own actions. Wes really was one of a kind.

Clueless to Danny mentally laughing at him, Wes set the bag of chips down and crossed his arms. "So…how come the Mayor knows about Phantom? I know he's not really related to you."

Rubbing the back of his neck, Danny bit his lip. He really didn't need to out Vlad, it wasn't his place to tell his secret. "It's not like I've got a deal with the city or anything, if that's what you're thinking. I knew and hated him before he was our Mayor, my parents were his best friends back in college. He ran to spite me actually."

Looking slightly confused, "why'd you tell him then?" Wes's eyes were calculating, as if he were trying to connect the dots. Danny shook his head, a little annoyed. "I didn't, I've never told anyone. He just found out… Why?"

Wes just shrugged, trying to appear casual. "Just curious…So how many people actually know?"

Breathing through his nose, Danny let his legs dangle over the edge of the bed and gingerly touched the floor. "Is this an interrogation? 'cause I'm really not in the mood," he said a bit angrily.

Huffing, "Fine…" Wes got up and walked over to him, offering him a hand that he gratefully accepted. His knee screamed in protest as soon as he applied pressure, but he could stand. He'd ran track around the football field in worse conditions before, he could handle a little pain. "The guy said you'd feel the full effects of the antidote in about 24 hours, it works faster if you are in your 'ghost form' but your healing power should have kicked in by now," he explained, letting go of Danny's arm to air quote Vlad's words.

He nodded in understanding, he could feel it. The power that coursed through his veins slowly building back up. It wasn't nearly as much as he was used to, but it was a start. Yesterday, he had almost run dry. It was the closest he's come to feeling completely human in a long time. Sadly, that wasn't a good thing anymore.

Shaking the thoughts out of his head, he steadied himself by grabbing the wall. "I always thought your room would be different," he remarked in an attempt to change the subject.

"Huh?"

He tilted his head playfully as he examined the various posters, "You know, I imagined elaborate bulletin boards, newspaper clippings, and a bunch of strings connecting them all. The usual set up for a stalker."

Wes narrowed his eyes, apparently not as amused as Danny. "I may follow you around Fenton, but I'm not bonkers. That's your department." With that he turned and headed for the bedroom door. Danny smirked, not finding any defense against his own sanity, he ran his fingers through his grimy locks.

Grimacing at how gross he felt with all the layers of sweat, blood, and a bit of mud from his fall, "I'm gonna go take a shower, if that's alright with you," he called out.

Already halfway down the stairs, "Be my guest, it's not like you haven't used everything else in this house. Uninvited." Wes grumbled back, loud enough for him to hear.

Danny's spirit slumped back down, a frown on his face. "Sorry."

* * *

Panting lightly, Danny gripped the counter as he watched Wes fry some eggs. He felt a little weak from the heat of the steamy shower he subjected himself to. His hair was still dripping, a towel slung around his neck.

Wes noticed his looming presence as he turned to place the slightly burnt eggs onto a plate. "You came down the stairs by yourself? You could've asked me…"

Danny waved his hand dismissively, restraining his arm from clutching his stomach due to the sporadic twinges of pain. He probably shouldn't have over-exerted himself as soon as he woke up. "Nah I'm good, really, don't worry." He said as he sat down at the small table, waiting for Wes to finish preparing the food.

Not feeling the need to argue further, the ginger shrugged.

"Did Vlad say anything about the rest of the deal we made?" Danny inquired curiously once they were both seated. The boy looked up from his plate while shoving a spoonful into his mouth. He nodded as he swallowed, "uh, yeah. He said everything was taken care of…the articles should be out tomorrow morning."

Danny let a small content smile grace his lips, everything was going to be okay. All those people would be free soon, hopefully no one else would give their lives for the GIW's sick research. Resting his cheek into his palm, he chewed slowly, lost in thought.

"What's the rest of the plan?" Wes asked after a few moments of silence between them. Danny looked towards him and shrugged. "…not much, Vlad kinda fast tracked it. We can sit back and let the authorities handle it now. Though, I need to leave an anonymous tip before the articles are published so they won't have time to move the abducted people and cover their tracks."

Wes eyed him critically, listening to Danny's explanation. "So I'll be free from you tomorrow?" he asked hopefully.

Chuckling, Danny leaned back into his chair and nodded. "If all goes as planned, yes."

Wes narrowed his eyes while scooping up the last spoonful, "You asked for three days. If tomorrow doesn't work out, you're still leaving." Danny looked away and sighed, still holding a weak smile on his lips. "Fair enough."

Pushing his chair out, Wes grabbed both their plates to head towards the sink.

"Let me do them this time," Danny protested, "believe it or not, I don't really like you doing all this stuff for me."

The boy turned, left eyebrow raised. "Who do you think I am? Your evil step-mother? I'm not gonna make you stand and wash dishes with a busted up knee, Fenton. Doesn't matter how much I hate you. Just go watch some TV and get out of my hair."

Without warning, a bright flash of white light bathed the room, reaching every last corner. A rush of energy coursed through his body as a cocky grin took its rightful place on his face. "Uh, I wouldn't worry about standing. I can float remember? Besides Vlad said I'd heal faster in ghost form," he reasoned, floating over to the boy and phasing the dishes out of his hands.

Wes scratched the back of his head, "Hm, I guess that would work with my conscience," he smirked, "It's all yours, the pan is still on the stove…. I haven't wiped down the counters for a while either, or mopped…"

"Watch it pal," Danny warned as he eyed Wes's snickering form retreat into the living room. Shaking his head, he smiled and turned towards the sink to get to work. It was the least he could do. His shoulder would be put under labour, but his ghost form made it a lot easier to handle.

As he scraped the burnt remains off the pan, his hands covered in suds, a nagging feeling tugged at the back of his mind. As if he was making a mistake. However, he couldn't put his finger on it. Deciding to ignore his instincts, he began to hum quietly along with the tune of the commercial that Wes was watching.

Later, Danny draped the washcloth over the sink, wiped the sweat off of his brow and began looking around for a mop when a booming knock on the front door echoed through the small house.

"You expecting anyone?" Wes called out in an annoyed tone.

Preoccupied by his search for a mop in the hall closet, "No," Danny distractedly replied. moving a couple of boxes aside to finally reveal the desired object, "eureka," he whispered to himself, smiling victoriously as he grabbed it and phased out of the dark closet.

Recalling the knock, he curiously looked over at his host, a question at the tip of his tongue. Wes was at the front door, peering through the peep hole. Danny's child-like smile instantly dropped as he took in his abnormal body language.

The boy was standing completely stiff, one leg backing up as if preparing to run, he was breathing as an alarmingly fast rate, loud enough for Danny to hear.

"Danny, I think you should hide." he whispered, panic evident in his voice. Danny wrinkled his forehead in confusion, fear slowly encompassing his body. "What are you talki—"

His unfinished question was rudely answered by the sound of the back wall caving in. Flinching at the sudden explosion, he froze, momentarily shocked as he took in the expression on Wes face.

A tirade of obnoxious crashes from behind him shook him out of his stupor. Time slowed down as he spun away from Wes and took in what was left of the kitchen he had so painstakingly cleaned. The table had been thrown aside, plates lay broken on the floor, and chunks of dry wall littered the entire area.

Danny's eyes widened, his mind struggling to process what had just happened. Before he had a chance to act, he felt a sharp pain between his eyes. Cool steel was held steadily against his forehead. "You've put us through a lot of trouble ghost," A deep menacing voice behind the metallic ecto-weapon growled. "I don't know how you managed to disappear off the radar…or survived that new trick of ours… but you're not escaping us now."

The fire behind his green eyes flared dangerously as he took in the situation, staring down the bald man before him. Gritting his teeth, he took a quick glance around, he was surrounded. The whirring of their advanced weaponry pointed his way was deafening, overwhelming his frazzled senses.

He kept his outer demeanor calm and confident; yet, internally he began to panic. He wasn't nearly strong enough to hold a fair fight. There were many more agents then he was used to, they looked prepared to bring down an entire army. He would have to strategize his attacks.

"Grab that kid, he's seen too much," the one in charge barked, not once breaking eye contact through his dark lenses. Danny's pulse picked up, lungs constricting painfully, his heart in his throat. He hadn't realized Wes would be in danger. Turning, he spotted two more bald men approach the teen through the broken down front door.

"No, stay away from him!" Danny snarled, finally finding his voice as he subtly tightening his grip around the mop still in his hands.

Wes ducked out of their grasp, skidding away behind a table. "Danny, leave me. RUN!" he screamed as he backed away, struggling to evade their attacks.

Making a split-second decision, Danny smiled up at his adversary. The agent briefly faltered, stepping slightly back at his eerie change in attitude. That was all he needed.

In a rapid sweeping motion he jabbed the mop handle into the man's gut, hard. The guy reeled back, shocked into temporary submission. Promptly pulling it back he cracked the makeshift weapon over his good knee, expertly wielding the handle to hold off and stun the hoard of attacking idiots.

He formed a spherical shield around himself to evade their onslaught of ecto-blasts, burning holes through the walls and furniture. Grinning, he took a deep breath, dropped the shield, and blew out a stream of icy breath as he spun around, freezing the weapons solid. Winking at a particularly fuming attacker, he promptly disappeared through the tiles.

Ignoring the string of profanities he could hear through the thin floor, he flew over and stuck his hands back through, based on estimation alone, and blindly pulled.

Wes stared back at him in the dark, wide eyed. His features only illuminated by the faint glow of Danny's eyes. The shock was gone in an instant, replaced with frustration. "What the hell are you doing? Get out of here you moron!"

Shaking his head stubbornly, Danny secured his grip on the boy, turning them both invisible he soared through the building, landing in the small and crowded attic. "I'm not letting them get you."

They could still clearly hear the racket below them, the agents searching through the small house. Danny knew the GIW had a ghost tracker, they didn't have much time. "They won't do anything to me, I'm not a ghost." Wes argued, pushing himself out of Danny's arms aggressively.

Anger flaring, Danny leaned in dangerously, pointing a stern finger at the ginger's thick skull. "Get this through your head, they kidnap and kill people too! They're trying to eliminate all evidence of their actions. Including witnesses. You aren't in any less danger then I am."

"Then what do we do! I can't believe you got me into this." Wes cried, pacing around the small area, head in his hands.

"I'm sorry alright," Danny whispered softly, controlling his misplaced anger to try and conjure up a plan. "Okay hold on tight, I'm gonna get us out of here."

Hesitantly, Wes stepped closer to him. Danny quickly closed the distance, attempting to grab the boy as fast as possible.

But he was too late.

An eruption of dust and debris through the floor blew the boys apart from each other, "AHH"

"WES!" Danny yelled, clutching his stomach, coughing violently as he squinted through the dust. His thoughts spun, ears ringing, throat burning.

"Watch out!" a faraway voice screamed, assuming it was directed at him, he instinctively rolled his body over. Narrowly avoiding a power blast. His heart pounded as he dumbly stared at the spot his head had been moments before. Scrambling to his knees he struggled to remember what his plan was.

Run. Take Wes and hide. That was all he could summon. It would have to do.

Loosing self-restraint, he fired full force, quickly depleting his energy reserves as he searched for his comrade. Finally locking eyes on his target, his stomach dropped at the scene before him. Wes was held against the floor, knee lodged in his spine, violently being cuffed as some sort of criminal.

The momentary distraction proved beneficial to his opponents, before Danny managed to shake the shock and blast that agent off of Wes, he was blind sighted. A warm rush of air flowed around his cheek before the hit, warning him of doom a millisecond too late. The energy was so great that he plummeted across the tiny room, landing head first into the wall.

His vision blurred, rapidly fading to black as the commotion settled down. The last thing he heard before slipping into unconsciousness chilled him to the bone. "Take them both to the facility, they might as well be of use to us. Especially our infamous ghost kid."


	16. Chapter 16: Never so Defenseless

Walking down the stone steps of Casper High, Buster sighed heavily. It had been an excruciatingly long day, the last few minutes seemed to drag on forever. For a moment he had convinced himself that time had stopped.

But, when the bell officially rang, instead of the joy he had been anticipating, dread made a home in the pit of his stomach. Now he would have to face Danny and he didn't know if he could.

Dragging his feet towards the sidewalk, he noticed a large crowd gathered in the field. He couldn't tell what all the uproar was about, but there was someone yelling at the center, enticing a steady chant. With his curiosity piqued, he pushed his way through the crowd.

A large man dressed entirely in orange stood tall, shouting through a megaphone, something he didn't really need. His deep voice boomed in anger. "Down with the Guys in White! Down with the Guys in white!" The people around him steadily chanting along, probably in support of Phantom rather than Danny.

Buster couldn't help but feel slightly intimidated by the man. Watching him jumping up and down parading around the center, he wondered how someone like Danny could be related to him. Sure, Danny was strong and scary in his own way, but he somehow managed to appear non-threatening if you didn't pay much attention to him. However, considering who his mother was, it started to make a little more sense.

The Fenton's were odd, he had never seen parents act like that back in Elwood city. If he had, he would probably have claimed they were aliens. But he liked them, they always seemed to do what they wanted. Happy in their own right, just the way Buster wanted to live.

The looks on their faces today though, so different from their regular expressions, disturbed him.

Maddie put her hand on Jack's shoulder, whispering something into his ear. He instantly stopped yelling and handed her the megaphone.

"You are all probably here to protest the loss of your hero," she began, her voice strong and steady, "but everyone seems to have forgotten that someone else has gone missing along with that putrid ghost. Our baby boy, Danny Fenton." The crowd grew silent, everyone knew about the rumors. Most assumed they were true.

Wiping a silent tear of off her cheek, "He's just a small sixteen year old child, he doesn't deserve this. He is sweet, kind and caring. He isn't capable of hurting anyone," she reasoned desperately hoping someone would listen to her. "No one is looking for him…The police claim their hands are tied thanks to those horrible GIW," her voice shook, anger flashing in her eyes. Closing them, she took a deep breath, "If anyone knows anything, please come forward…he hasn't slept in his bed for two nights," she choked, "I just want my son back."

Listening to her break down into her husband's shoulder, Buster's heart broke. He knew exactly how they felt. The gripping fear of not knowing where, how or why. He hated that he had the power to make their pain go away but could do nothing about it. How could Danny do this to them? It was cruel to put anyone through that sort of agony.

Unable to stand the sight of the distressed couple any longer, he shifted his eyes and landed on Sam and Tucker. He hadn't seen them since they were called away to the office. He successfully avoided them at lunch, not feeling up to another awkward stare down. Opting instead to loiter around, idly searching for Wes. He was a little relieved to find that the boy hadn't shown up.

Sam instantly looked away, giving him the cold shoulder. Buster couldn't understand what it was that he did wrong, but chose to ignore it. He had other problems. Tucker, on the other hand, met his gaze and nodded towards him in greeting with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. They appeared just as guilty as he felt.

Tucker moved from his spot in the crowd and attempted to comfort Mrs. Fenton. Buster couldn't make out the conversation but he saw her smile sadly at him, nod and walk back to their vehicle. Jack watched after her, straightened himself up, cleared his throat, and resumed his protest.

The crowd eagerly joined in, the teens of Amity always ready for demonstration. Sam held up a huge poster, and screamed along with them, looking right at home. Buster scratched his head and wondered what good this all would do. There was no one around to listen, no one to really help. Sure he has participated in his own fair share of protests, but this was different. It was complicated, Buster just couldn't understand it.

Through all the chaos, no one noticed as a familiar air craft that had been obscuring their view of the blue sky suddenly changed course. Only seconds later several other aircrafts from different directions all began speeding towards one area. Everyone, other than Buster, ignored the collective whooshing overhead, merely increasing their volume.

He shifted around and stared after them, his eyebrows scrunched, squinting through the sun. His breath caught in his throat when he realized where they were headed.

Towards Wes's neighbourhood. Towards Danny.

That couldn't be a coincidence.

Trying to stay calm, he backed up slowly, only bumping into a few people as he escaped the crowd. Rubbing his shoulder from a particularly nasty elbow jab, he noticed Tucker watching him. There was an unreadable look in his eyes, Buster realized he had noticed the GIW too.

But Tucker didn't know where Danny was, and he wasn't supposed to. He couldn't tell him. Did it matter now? They had found him didn't they?

Swallowing, he pushed the thoughts away. He didn't have time. Swiftly, he turned and mounted the sidewalk, away from Tucker, feeling his eyes on his back.

Once he was far enough away, he picked up the pace. He had to get there fast, but he was no match for aircrafts. He didn't know what he planned on doing, he wasn't much help if he couldn't warn them before the agents got there. He didn't even know Wes's number. So he did all he think of doing; he ran.

They were going to get there first. He crossed his fingers that Danny and Wes would somehow be alright.

Something in his gut told him not to keep his hopes up.

People gave him odd looks, scoffing and muttering as he pushed past them. He figured he looked like a lunatic running wildly down the streets. Nothing he wasn't used to really. He didn't care.

His lungs burned, begging him to stop. He needed his inhaler, his body couldn't handle the stress. But he wouldn't listen, his mind had detached itself. It was focused on one thing and one thing only.

Mrs. Fenton needed her son back.

He looked up at the sky, he couldn't see them anymore. The sky was silent, as if it were just an ordinary day. His pace slowed down slightly in momentary confusion. They had probably landed, he concluded. His heart sped up along with his feet at the thought. What were they going to do? Were they trying to finish him off? He thought about stopping, calling the police. But he couldn't, they wouldn't help.

He would have to do this alone. Completely alone. And he didn't even know what it was that he was doing. Saving Danny? But how?

He should have told Tucker, he should have told the Fentons. He should have even told Dash, anyone would have been better than no one. He felt small, scrawny and stupid. There were dozens of planes, did he really think he could fight them off? He hadn't ever been in a fight before, the only thing that came in mind was the time he flipped Sue Ellen…and she wasn't even trying. For all he knew, the GIW would just shoot him on sight. What's another dead kid on their hands?

He wished Phantom would come back.

His frantic thoughts were abruptly interrupted by another solid whoosh, but this time it was much louder. He stopped suddenly, hands on his knees as he panted for air. He still had a few more blocks left. They were turning back? Maybe Danny and Wes saw them and hid, maybe it was a false alarm.

Just as relief began to flood his oxygen deprived body, he noticed a single aircraft lagging behind the rest. The others had flown over him and were quite a distance away, but this one had yet to pass. It almost looked like it was being held back, sputtering in spot. Struggling to move forward. Something was up.

He stood, curiously gazing up at the malfunctioning machine and spotted something strange.

Frost.

Building on the windshield. Encompassing the wings.

It was still considerably cold outside, but not enough to flash freeze and entire aircraft.

The longer he stared, the more the crystals grew, the slower the flying vehicle got. It had to have only been seconds, but to Buster it felt like forever. It was mesmerizing, watching the ice build, delicately fold over every corner.

It took him a moment to realize that not only had it suddenly picked up speed, but it was also getting bigger. Feeling the imaginary effect of the magical ice, he couldn't get himself to move. He stood frozen to the ground, mouth agape, watching as the aircraft plummeted out of the sky.

Directly towards him.

Something in the back of his mind screamed at him to move, he had time. Just run into the alley. But he was paralyzed in fear. He couldn't comprehend what was happening. People around him screamed as they ran, but no one turned and gave him a second glance.

Every man for himself.

He saw two familiarly dressed men eject out of their seats, parachuting down, and frantically yelling into their communication device moments before impact. He let his eyes slip shut, accepting his fate.

Maybe he'd finally see his mom again.

He felt a strong force at the side of his body, the air was pushed out of his lungs as he was swept off his feet, flying into the sky.

Not more than a nanosecond later, the sound of the crash overwhelmed his senses. Ears ringing by his close proximity. However, there was no pain.

Confused, he opened his eyes, staring straight into glowing green ones.

"Are you insane?!" The ghost shrieked. Buster could do nothing but blink back at him. Where had he come from?

"I thought I told you to stay away until this was all over?" he screamed again in frustration, keeping his eyes forward as they soared at an ungodly speed over the buildings. He didn't look so good. His skin appeared paler than usual, eyes slightly dimmed, his face was covered in soot. Buster didn't know ghosts could get sick.

"You didn't tell me to do anything, I haven't seen you for over a week. Where were you?" He replied, finally getting his bearings back.

Phantom rolled his eyes, "Well Danny told you to stay away didn't he? Why didn't you just listen? Now they're gonna go after you too," he scolded, completely ignoring Buster's question. Buster bit his lip, flinching at the harsh tone and decided to let it go, it probably had to do with whatever Danny couldn't tell him.

"Did you freeze the plane?" he tried instead.

Phantom breathed in deeply. "Yeah…I didn't see you. I wasn't thinking, I was just trying to get free." He looked scared, terrified even. Buster didn't like that look. Phantom was supposed to be the strong one.

"They had captured you?"

The ghost looked over his shoulder without disrupting their speed and sighed, "Yeah they still have Wes, I need to save him…God, this is all my fault."

Suddenly feeling like he was going to vomit, he closed his eyes and swallowed back the bile. "What about Danny?" he whispered, too afraid to ask but too worried not to.

Phantom didn't reply right away. Buster looked up to take in his expression, he couldn't read it though. "Him too, they took him. I need to help. But first I need to make sure you're safe." he said solemnly, without meeting his eyes.

"I want to help," he said as Phantom slowed and dived down.

The ghost narrowed his eyes, anger flaring behind them. "NO," he said sternly, placing Buster down.

"Why not," he countered stubbornly, arms crossed. Phantom looked sick, he needed help. He couldn't do this alone.

The ghost boy ran his fingers through his white hair and pulled open a door to a broken down building. It looked like it had been abandoned for years, a chill ran up his spine as he looked through and took in the darkness. "Just stay here, and don't move until you're sure it's safe. Then go straight home." He instructed, Buster shivered. He didn't think he could spend a second in there, let alone hide out for who knows how long.

Turning to protest, he stopped in his tracks. With his eyes wide, "Phantom…"

Phantom raised his arms in frustration, "Just listen for once in your life," he yelled.

Buster didn't hear him, his eyes were fixed on something in the sky. He tried again, "Pha—" but was interrupted by another angry shout.

"Go in! I don't have time—"

"Neither do we spook, you've wasted enough of ours. You're going to pay for that ship." A voice interrupted. Phantom stiffened, without warning, he grabbed Buster once again and shot up into the sky.

"How did they get here so fast," he mumbled to himself, tucking Buster's head into his shoulder as he avoided streams of energy blasts coming their way. If Buster wasn't so scared, he would have been embarrassed at the treatment. "Put me down, it would be a lot easier for you." he said, his voice muffled against Phantom's suit.

"They saw you already, it's too late. I'm not risking it again." he replied, panting as he swerved around a sharp turn, surprising the two men with a sideways strike. They screeched, one of the jet packs giving out. The other dived to save his partner, buying them some time.

"I can't leave you out in the open, I'm not sure how far these guys are going to go. But if I can get you to safety, they can't get to you." Phantom explained, in a strangely calm voice. He was thinking, planning something. "I don't want to bring your family into this mess so bringing you home is not going to happen…I'll take you to Vlad."

"Who is that?" he asked cautiously, not keen on barging in to another random person's home.

"…The Mayor, I'm not sure he'll help again. But it's worth a shot. I doubt they would abduct a kid right from under his nose."

Buster had to agree that the idea made some sort of sense. He didn't understand why these people were abducting kids and attacking Phantom, but he knew he was in trouble and decided that trusting Phantom was his only option.

Suddenly their flight changed at a drastic upward angle, catching Buster of guard. He looked down just in time to see a glowing green net fly past their previous location. Phantom had avoided it without even looking.

Instinctively, Buster tightened his grip on his shoulder. Phantom winced softly, cursing under his breath. He let go immediately, "Sorry, are you hurt?" he asked.

The ghost smiled kindly, "you could say that," he replied distractedly, sending an ice blast down at their pursuers.

Buster noted that the ghost was limiting his attacks, sticking to defense. He suspected that he didn't have much power left. "Why don't you turn invisible and take us there, we could slow down a bit and lose them," he suggested.

"It won't work, they can track me. Visible or not." Phantom replied without missing a beat, his eyebrows scrunched in concentration as he nailed a particularly difficult mid-air stunt.

"That's just rotten," he complained, fingers digging into the ghost's side to ensure he wouldn't slip.

"Can't argue with you there."

With much grace, Phantom geared down and shot straight into the road, turning intangible a little too late for comfort. Buster held his breath at the smell of the sewers as Phantom landed them on the side, leaning his head against the dirty walls, taking a moment to collect himself. "You're tired," he pointed out worriedly, feeling incredibly useless.

The ghost took a couple of deep breaths before he opened one eye, sparing him a glance. Smiling wryly, he secured his arm around him once again and took off. "What gave it away?"

Buster peered over his shoulder in time to spot the two men round a corner, gaining on them, frustrated scowled plastered on their faces. Large rocket blasters appeared out of their jets, aiming their way.

"Look out!" he yelled. Just as a large rocket left its home and hurtled towards them, Phantom turned his head. Eyes wide, he dropped their altitude. Abruptly plummeting, Buster screamed in shock as they landed and rolled roughly across the flat roof of an apartment building. Breathing heavily, Phantom's dim eyes suddenly brightened in anger.

"Okay change of plan," he sneered. He shoved Buster behind the large electrical box and formed a mini green shield around his body, "you stay here while I take care of these guys."

Buster bit back a protest, he wouldn't be able to help anyway. Better he was out of the way.

With his racing heart pounding in his ears, he let his mind wander as Phantom's form faded out of sight. Wes and Danny's faces flashed before him. His creative mind not doing him any favors in imagining what kind of conditions they might be in. They were long ways away by now, the other agents dragging them away to who knows where. It all felt unreal, like he was stuck in a nightmare. He wished he could wake up and never fall asleep again.

When he was younger, he craved excitement. Something supernatural, something cool. If he had known what he was getting himself into, he would never have wasted so much time.

A loud thud right in front of him startled his eyes open, he hadn't realized they had closed in the first place. Wrinkling his forehead, he squinted through the green barrier. His eyebrows shot up when he realized he was staring straight at the two agents, tied up in what seemed to be the remnants of a banner. Phantom had caught them.

Excited at the small victory, he wondered where his ghostly friend was. However, he didn't have to wonder for very long. The shield flickered around him in synch to the sudden quaking of the ground he was sitting on.

Alarmed, he scrambled to his knees and peered over the electrical box. Phantom had apparently crash landed back onto the roof, currently pushing himself onto his hands and knees.

However, seemingly out of nowhere, a thin stream of energy shot out and struck him in the back. "AGHH," the ghost yelled as he collapsed back onto his belly.

Buster's shield instantly dissipated around him.

Confused, Buster stared at the men in front of him who were out cold. Weren't there only two? Where had that attack come from?

Shifting his attention back on the fallen hero, Buster held his breath, willing him to get up. At that moment, the source of the attack made itself known. A single agent, somehow appearing more threatening than all the others he had seen combined, effortlessly flew over and aimed a large cannon at the limp body. His stoic face slowly changed into a pleased sneer as he pulled back a switch and prepared to shoot.

Buster wasn't really thinking. All he knew was that Phantom was too weak to take that shot. He didn't know what happened to ghosts when they were driven over the edge, and he wasn't ready to find out.

Moving faster than he had moved before, he leapt into the air and landed right in front of his friend. His breath hitched as he watched the angry red energy shoot out of the weapon, right towards his head. Instinctively, he brought his arms up to shield his face and closed his eyes.

There was a yell. He felt a hand wrap around his ankle. And then there was silence.

He opened his eyes and looked around. Confused. Stunned.

"That was incredibly stupid," a weak voice choked out.

They were no longer on the roof. "Where are we?" he asked cautiously once his eyes landed on Phantom.

The ghost staggered backwards, "I don't know, I teleported on instinct…it's a new power. Don't really know how to use it," he coughed, wheezing audibly.

Gripping the rough brick wall behind him, the ghost slid down. He was struggling, his face contorted in pain. Buster stepped closer, intending to comfort him, but was stopped mid-stride.

A bright flash of light exploded out of nowhere, blinding him. There was a cry of agony.

' _The agents are back_ ,' he thought in panic.

Forcing his eyes back open, he began to run forward, fully planning on attempting his earlier stunt once more…but there was no one to tackle. No one to come between.

He stood stock still and stared at the spot against the wall. The limp form shaking slightly, hands threaded in his messy hair, was not the same one that was there moments before.

His blood ran cold. His mind completely numb, unable to comprehend the sight before him.

"Danny?"


	17. Chapter 17: To Be Trusted

He was going to throw up. His whole body shook, beads of sweat slid off his neck straight down his back. His skin burned in the cold January air, the ice core too weak to function normally in human form. The sharp pains emanating off of his entire being was agonizing…but bearable.

The expression of pure horror on his friend's face was not.

From the moment he heard Buster utter his name, they had been staring at each other. Unmoving. Both in equal amounts, but different states of shock. Danny's mind raced, he was struggling to keep up. At least he didn't have to worry about the GIW tracking him at the moment, a small, optimistic, but highly annoying, part of his mind contributed to his frenzied thoughts.

He couldn't decide what was worse, how terrified the kid looked or how angry.

"You lied," Buster said so quietly that Danny was sure he had imagined it. However, he watched as the younger boy's eyes hardened as he found the courage to step closer to the abomination that was before him, "everything was a lie!"

Danny wanted to turn invisible, just phase through the brick wall behind him, but he couldn't. Buster deserved better than that. He opened his mouth to argue, "No…I—" and was interrupted by a shout of fury.

"You promised!"

He held his hand up defensively, "Buster just let me—", but the boy wasn't finished.

A tear rolled down his cheek that he furiously wiped away, "you said you wouldn't die!"

Danny's heart stopped in his chest. His mouth opened and closed like a fish. Buster glared at him angrily for a couple more seconds before staggering backwards and sliding down his own wall. Eyes turned away, trying to hide the tears, "you promised me you'd be alive."

He didn't know what to say. Danny expected him to scream, to shout, maybe run away and never talk to him again…but he didn't expect him to mourn.

"I'm not dead," he whispered unintentionally.

Buster sharply flicked his gaze up to meet his tired one, "Stop it. Stop lying," he gritted.

Swallowing, trying to get rid of the bad taste in his mouth, he tried to defend himself. "Buster, I've never outright lied to you."

"That's a lie itself," the boy mumbled, looking away from him. Danny hoped it wasn't, he had become so accustomed to lying over the years that it was almost second nature. However, with Buster, he had tried. Half-truths were better than nothing right?

He closed his eyes, overwhelmed by the sharp turn the day had taken. "I promise I'll explain everything," he breathed, "but right now we don't have time. Wes is in danger."

Buster got back on his feet, he heard the sound of his inhaler and then pacing. Danny waited, counting the seconds down in his mind. The longer they sat here, the more time Wes was alone with those creeps. He tried to stay composed, he couldn't act impulsively this time. He needed a real plan, and for that, Buster needed to calm down.

"Give me one good reason why I should trust you, why I shouldn't just turn you in," he bit out, his voice shaking at the last part.

Upon hearing the threat, a billion thoughts rushed through his head. Because thousands of people would die, including Wes. Because the GIW would win. Because Danny would be torn apart, literally. Because his parents would hate him. Because he could never pretend to be normal again. Because Amity wouldn't survive the attacks if he were gone. "…Because we're friends."

He opened his eyes, they were staring at each other again. Buster's eyes were unreadable, emotions flashing and flickering. Danny held his breath. His gut twisted, sending a sharp twinge of pain throughout his body.

His eyes prickled when he saw Buster come to a decision and reach into his pocket to pull out his phone. "Buster stop," he choked, his voice urgent, unable to let himself believe it. He tried to push himself up to grab the device. Buster hated him, he was trying to turn him in. Wes probably hated him too. He lost a friend, maybe two.

"Relax. I'm calling Dash," the boy whispered and walked away, stopping at the edge of the alley and looking around.

Danny stared after him, his heart racing a mile a minute. He could hear him talk quietly into the phone, probably trying to figure out where they were. Settling back against the wall, he tuned him out and focused on calming his nerves.

This was a good thing. He chose to trust him. Or at least chose not to call the cops. Everything might still work out.

He took in a couple of deep breaths and evaluated his power reserves. They were almost as low as last night. But they were slowly bouncing back, he would be alright in a couple of hours. Until then, he needed to plan. He placed his head down on his drawn up knees and lost himself in his thoughts, trying hard not to imagine what Wes was going through.

After a long while of silence, "Was it even real?" a broken voice asked him. He lifted his head, seeing that Buster had returned, probably a long time ago, and was sitting cross legged right across from him. He wasn't looking straight at Danny, but past him, as if trying to remember something.

"What was?"

"Our friendship…both of them. Do I even know you?" he asked, sadness dwelling in his words. Danny bit his lip, He knew very well that he was Buster's only real 'friends' in Amity. Sam and Tucker, even if they enjoyed his company, only spent time with him because of Danny, Buster knew that. He didn't want him to feel like it wasn't real…but was it? Did he manipulate him? Did he spend time with him out of some sick heroic urge?

He sensed Buster grow uncomfortable by his lack of response, probably accepting it as an answer. Danny looked down at his hands and thought. Buster might not have known his biggest secret, may not have understood him as a whole…but somewhere along the way, he knew both sides of him better than most people. Maybe even sides of him that weren't so concrete. He looked up and gave the boy a solemn look. "Yes it was. I know it doesn't seem like I could have ever been honest about who I am if I hid this…But I promise, I'm still me. Just one person instead of two."

Buster didn't respond, he merely nodded his head and turned it away, looking up into the sky. Danny followed suit and stiffened. The air crafts were back. Before he had time to panic, a car horn blared loudly from the edge of the alley.

Instantly, Buster stood up on his feet. Danny turned and spotted Dash's car, and subsequently Dash. The blond jogged over, hugged Buster tightly with one arm and then proceeded to swat him in the back of the head. Danny watched the exchange with an amused smile on his lips but instantly dropped it when he noticed Dash staring at him apprehensively. The boy seemed frozen in spot, his mouth agape, as if he couldn't believe that Danny was really there. "Dude, you look like hell."

"Thanks, it's a new look I'm working on," he joked while trying to smile brightly. Dash raised his brow but soon smiled back. He tossed him something he had been holding. Realizing it was Dash's hoodie, Danny gratefully slipped it on.

"Do you need help standing or something?" Dash asked after waiting a while for him to move.

Danny blushed, "Uh, no…I can do it." He placed both hands on either side of him and pushed up, gritting his teeth to avoid screaming.

Buster rolled his eyes, "why couldn't you just say yes?" he said as he came to his rescue.

Danny grinned sheepishly, "Well I never said it wouldn't hurt." Dash quickly came up to his other side, taking a closer look at his sunken features, he gasped softly. Their eyes momentarily met, Dash lowered his brows with sympathy, removed Buster's grip and all but carried Danny towards the vehicle.

Once he was settled in the back, the two cousins sat in the front, the car suspended in an awkward silence. "I'm not going anywhere until someone tells me what the heck is going on." Dash said, cutting through the tension. Danny didn't speak, he didn't want Dash to know about Phantom. It didn't seem like Buster had told him over the phone. His eyes met Buster's in the mirror, he tried to silently communicate his thoughts. Buster nodded subtly, seeming to understand, although he wasn't happy about it.

"Can you just tell us what you did? Why they are after you? Please, I can't keep helping you if I don't know why. It's not fair." Danny swallowed the lump in his throat, he had hoped he didn't have to tell Buster…but he deserved to know. Maybe it would help him get closure, maybe he was wrong for not telling him in the first place.

He looked out the window and spotted a few more air crafts circling the area. Drawing up the oversized hood to cover his hair and most of his face, he slid down his seat enough to be out of sight. "Okay…can you drive to Fenton Works while I talk though?"

Buster turned in his seat and stared disbelievingly at him, "You want to go home?"

He nodded. "Yeah…I need some stuff." Dash shrugged, then turned the key in the ignition and drove off.

When he didn't begin, Dash cleared his throat. "Fentina, I'm not your private taxi service…fess up." Danny sighed, he looked at Buster once again through the mirror and decided he needed to rip the Band-Aid right off.

"They murdered your mom."

The silence that filled the car was thicker than before, his words echoing loudly in the enclosed space. Buster's eyes were wide and his mouth hung open. Dash looked at Danny, shocked, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the wheel tighter. "What?" Buster squeaked.

"Remember the building behind that…uh…field?" he asked softly, hating himself for bringing up painful memories. When Buster nodded slowly, he looked out the window and glared at the fools searching for his alter-ego. "It was a secret GIW facility where they conduct illegal experiments…I broke in and stole evidence against them…and released a bunch of ghosts" he confessed, "that's why they want me, they know I won't stay quiet." Both boys didn't say anything, Buster's eyes were closed painfully tight. Dash just looked surprised and worried about the boy next to him.

He didn't want to continue, but he had to finish what he started. "I read her notes for the story she was working on. She was close, she might have even figured it out. That's why they killed her…to keep her quiet. She was a threat to the organization." They turned a corner, a GIW car with blaring sirens rushed past them, not giving Danny a second glance. "And those sociopathic morons would do anything to keep their hands clean in the eyes of the law."

They stayed quiet for a few minutes, giving time for them to digest. "I knew I was right…no one listened to me. Sure it wasn't the aliens but I was still right," Buster mumbled glumly, keeping the tears at bay through a year's worth of resentment.

Danny sighed, "Yeah, you were."

"…Wes is in more trouble than I thought," Buster gulped, the bags under his eyes darkening.

Dash shot them a look, "Weston? The jock?"

Danny bit his lip, "Yeah, he's been helping me…they took him." Dash scrunched his brows at that, it was common knowledge that Wes 'hated' Danny.

"What about Phantom?" Dash asked, he looked utterly confused about the whole thing but seemed to sense that Buster wasn't going to talk about his mom any further.

"They haven't gotten him, he'll be back soon. He's gonna put an end to this." Buster shot him a weird look, probably realizing how easily Danny had weaseled around the lies this whole time.

"Can I borrow your phone?" Danny asked Buster as he was still looking at him strangely. He tossed it over without a fight, watching him intently. Danny quickly dialed the number he had been forced to memorize since he could never keep a phone for longer than a month.

"Hey man, how's the idiot doing?" Tucker's distinct voice rang out through the other end. Danny raised his brow, and narrowed his eyes at Buster. He wasn't supposed to be telling Tucker anything. Deciding it didn't really matter anymore, he laughed. "I'm doing great Tuck, Thanks for the concern."

"Danny! Oh man, I knew you'd be okay because you're you and you're always okay but… like, it's just great to hear your voice," the boy babbled.

"Shh, it's great to hear ya too Tuck but don't announce it to the world. Are you anywhere near Fenton Works?"

Tucker lowered his voice, "I'm with Sam at the Nasty Burger. She's trying to steal the phone out of my hand as we speak."

Danny smiled, he had missed them. Even if it had only been two days. "Do you have any idea where my parents are?" he asked, trying to get to the point quickly and efficiently.

Tucker made a sound as if he were struggling, probably wrestling the girl. "Near city hall I think…they've been protesting your disappearance around town," he finally answered, his voice strained.

Swallowing the twinge of guilt for another time, "Great, meet me at the house. I'm headed there right now, we've got a rescue mission."

Tucker didn't question him at all, "aye aye, captain," he chirped happily, sounding too relieved to be worried. Danny grinned, he knew he could always count on them.

"And Tuck? Grab me a burger," and with that, he hung up.

"What? Did you guys want a burger too?" he asked innocently, noticing the looks he was getting.

"Well I am hungry…" Buster supposed.

"Dude, you're planning on rescuing him with Foley. Even you couldn't handle those guys, what makes you think your puny friends would be any better?" Dash chided.

Danny raised his brow at him, what was that supposed to mean? He had always assumed Dash didn't notice how much Danny had changed…but apparently he was well aware. "Tucker is stronger than he looks, and I need him for tech stuff. Trust me, Sam and Tuck know what they are doing. The GIW just got lucky last time Dash, I can take 'em."

The jock shifted awkwardly in his seat while he gave him a sceptical look but didn't argue, it wasn't really his problem. If Danny didn't know any better, he would think the guy was actually worried about him. But Danny knew he didn't care. He was here for Buster.

"I'm helping too," the said boy piped up.

"No you are not!" both Danny and Dash yelled simultaneously, the car swerving slightly from Dash's outburst.

"They took _my_ mom away from me! They ruined _my_ life! I don't care what you guys say, I'm going!" The stubborn kid cried just as loudly.

"It's too dangerous! You've never done anything like this before. I can't risk taking you in there," Danny argued, hoping he would listen to reason.

"If you don't take me, I'll find a way to get there myself." Buster gritted, arms crossed.

"Danny, don't you dare say yes." Dash ordered, hitting the breaks on the car. Startled by the use of his first name, Danny gulped and looked out the window, noticing they were only a block away from home, he contemplated jumping out and making the trip on his own. However, that wouldn't stop the kid. Nothing would, when Buster set his mind on something…he didn't give up. Danny knew that, and so did Dash. But they couldn't let an inexperienced fourteen year old fight crime!

He paused and realized how ironic that thought truly was.

If Buster wanted to avenge his Mother's death, who was he to stop him?

"It's not my decision to make, Dash," he reluctantly said. Buster looked at him through the mirror with surprised but grateful eyes.

Dash didn't move the car, his knuckles quickly lost colour. He was seething, face growing red, glaring at Buster and then back at Danny. "Man, he's just a freshman! And he's even more puny then Foley! Have you seen those guys? They'll pummel him."

Buster turned his head sharply towards his overly protective cousin, "I'm sitting right here Dash, why are you yelling at him. If I want to go, I'm gonna go. No one is forcing you to come."

Dash swallowed, bit his lip and looked away. Danny sighed as he realized Dash was contemplating tagging along, "Dude, speaking from experience…size plays a minimal role during a fight. I'll protect him if things get out of hand, Phantom will eventually be there too. You stay here in Amity…if we aren't back by midnight, get help."

Dash closed his eyes in frustration, cursing under his breath, he loosened his grip on the wheel. "You guys are nuts," he mumbled and released the breaks.

Once parked, none of them made any movements to leave. Suspended in fear of what was to come. Danny swallowed dryly, trying to shake the ominous feeling in the air. He needed to think positively, everything was going to work out. It always did.

Finally, he lifted his hand and wrapped it around the handle. "Thanks Dash." he said sincerely and pushed the door open, feeling a lot stronger then he had back in the alley. Buster wordlessly followed suit, however they were both stopped by the large boy finally speaking up.

"Make sure you come back in one piece," he said sternly facing his cousin, then turned to look pointedly at Danny, "both of you."

Danny smirked, despite the seriousness in the guy's voice. "So you can rip me apart yourself?" he asked teasingly.

The jock regarded him for a moment and then broke out into an amused grin, "you know it."

They didn't have to wait long for Sam and Tucker to make an appearance. Danny and Buster sat in the living room in utter silence, lost in their respective thoughts, when the door burst open. Two blurs ran over and engulfed Danny in a huge bear hug.

Danny hid the wince as he laughed, "I missed you guys too."

Sam was the first to back away, she sent Buster a nasty look, that didn't go unnoticed by the ghost boy, and then eyed Danny critically. "You're hurt," she accused, brows knitted together.

Tucker pulled away, embarrassed by the display of affection and adjusted his glasses, glancing around Danny's face worriedly.

He flashed them a weak smile, "I look worse than I feel, promise." They seemed to accept that, knowing his healing usually worked wonders. Tucker handed over the promised burger, tossing one over to Buster with a wink and sat down beside his best friend with Sam on Danny's other side. Danny hurriedly unwrapped the food, his shaking body begging for nourishment after that drastic power drain.

They stared critically at his thin form hidden under the large hoodie pooled around him as he devoured the meal. He noticed Tuck eyeing the number embroidered on his chest. Tucker raised his brow, and giggled. "Dude, why are you wearing Dash's football hoodie? Don't you think you guys are rushing things a bit? Step one is usually hand holding."

He glared at him through a grin, "shut it Tuck, he drove us here. I was cold." At the confession, Sam's frown deepened, he hadn't felt cold since his ice powers came in. He had to admit, it was a bad sign. But he was feeling better, his knee was almost healed, in an hour or so he could fight again. Probably.

She darted her eyes over to where a silent Buster still sat, indicating she wanted to ask something ghost related and wanted him gone. Danny sighed, he knew she wouldn't react well but if Buster was going to be helping, he needed to come clean. "Go ahead and ask…he knows already."

They both stiffened and quickly turned to face the boy. Tucker's eyebrows receded behind his beret as he sat frozen in shock. "You've known this whole time? All of it?" Sam asked in enraged disbelief. "You talked didn't you? I saw you eyeing those GIW cars."

"I only found out an hour ago, I didn't tell anyone anything!" Buster squeaked defensively, cowering under the girl's wrath. She was too protective over the secret for her own good. He understood, he knew the consequences if it got out of hand, it was his secret. But it wasn't like Buster was going to sell him out…anymore.

"Cut it out Sam, he's a friend not an enemy. He saved me, twice. I'd probably be lying in the park dead or at the mercy of the GIW if it wasn't for him."

She ripped her glare off of the kid and bore into his own skull. "He shouldn't have needed to! He shouldn't even be involved. Forgive me if I'm a little upset and worried about your safety. I'd probably be taking this a lot better if I'd had any idea what's been going on…all I know is what Tucker knows. Which is practically nothing. And I'm still mad that you asked him for help and didn't bother talking to me at all by the way. We're supposed to be a team Danny."

Danny grimaced, feeling guilty for keeping them so out of the loop. He had kept the whole thing under wraps in respect of Buster's privacy…and well, after his goof up, it was important to keep his distance if he wanted to keep them safe, they were supposed to understand that. He looked towards Tucker for help. However, he appeared undecided on who he was siding with in the argument and looked away.

"Didn't you say we had a rescue mission? Shouldn't we get down to business?" Tucker asked, trying to move the conversation along.

Danny toed the carpet, they were going to like the Wes revelation even less. He took a deep breath and nodded, "Yeah…it's a long story." he stated.

She crossed her arms, "I want every detail, if we are going to stop these guys. You can't leave anything out."

He looked over at Buster, silently promising he would keep his mother out of the narrative. The kid smiled appreciatively and Danny delved in, paraphrasing the tale he'd told Vlad in a condensed manner due to their time constraints, leaving out the bloody horror of that night, the poison, and Wes and Vlad's involvement. They listened intently, looks of dismay on both their faces when they realized in what sort of trouble Danny was truly in.

"So why can't we just wait for the articles to be published…wasn't that your original plan?" Tucker asked curiously.

Danny looked away, he couldn't procrastinate any longer. They needed to leave Amity as soon as possible. "Because they kidnapped Wes, they're gonna kill him if we don't get there fast," he said urgently.

"Wes?" Sam asked, "The kid that tried telling everyone that you were Phantom and follows us around? Why'd they take him?" Tucker seemed equally confused and Buster sat with his mouth curved into a small 'o' shape as if he were finally beginning to understand that crazy ginger.

Shifting nervously, he pulled his collar away from him. "I uh…was staying at his place when they found me in ghost form. Let's just say they don't like leaving witnesses"

"You told Wes about Phantom too! Danny have you lost your mind?!" She exploded, "I understand that Buster isn't going to tell, at least on purpose, but that guy will! You know he will! He's tried before just because of a hunch. There's no limit to you stupidity is there?"

Danny scrunched his brows and pushed himself off the couch, he knew she was going to react like that, but he was still mad. "That's the whole idea, no one's going to believe him anyway! He's already told the whole school and their grandma what he thinks and they laughed in his face."

She threw her arms up into the air in exasperation. "Telling people is a whole lot different than showing them! You stayed at his house Danny, how do you know he didn't get proof?" she challenged.

He closed his eyes and wiped a hand down his face. Did she really think he was that stupid? "Because he's known since freshman year! He's seen me transform a billion times and has never successfully gotten any proof!" he seethed.

Ignoring the look of shock and betrayal on her face, he turned to limp towards the weapons vault. "I know what I'm doing, it's my secret Sam. I don't want to argue about this anymore, he's my friend and he's in trouble because of me. I'm going to save him with or without you."


	18. Chapter 18: My Mission Clear and True

Everything felt surreal. Dream-like. Bizarre.

He was walking, talking, taking orders…but it was like he wasn't truly there. He was on auto-pilot. Watching himself from the corner of the room. The past hour had taken centuries to cross. It had sent his mind reeling, had knocked the wind right out of him, had ripped his heart out and crushed it underneath the rubble of what was left of his life.

Buster didn't know how to feel. He didn't think an appropriate emotion existed.

He shadowed the three friends as they quickly prepared for the rescue, all remnants of the argument forgotten. Working like a well-oiled machine. He took in the amount of weaponry the trio gathered, the urgency in their voice as they discussed which ones would be helpful. Using words that would be mere gibberish to him if he had been listening. He mechanically loaded the ones handed to him into the large vehicle.

Finally finding himself buckled in, soaring through the sky, a slender gun strapped across his chest and a ray on his wrist, the fog in his mind cleared. The gravity of the situation settled.

If it were under any other circumstance, he would be absolutely ecstatic about the choice of transportation. It was something straight out of his wild day-dreams. The array of colourful buttons gleaming invitingly, enticing the childish part of his brain. However, there was no room for such thoughts in his head.

He glanced at the driver seat, Danny chattered away, giving orders while he skillfully maneuvered the plane-like vehicle. Sam was by his side nodding and giving her own input as Tucker tapped away on his laptop, commenting now and then with a determined scowl plastered on his face. These guys were professionals, he realized. They knew exactly what they were doing. He was in way over his head.

But he wasn't going to back out. His mother deserved as much. She died trying to bring their crimes to light, and he was going to make sure it wasn't in vain. Aliens or not, these guys were evil. The absolute scum of the earth. He wouldn't be surprised if they weren't human. They didn't exactly look it, they were all too eerily similar. They were probably evil robots sent to this planet programmed to destroy every ounce of joy left within the human race. He was going to put an end to it, if it was the last thing he did.

"Buster? Did you hear anything I said?" Danny's strangely authoritative voice called out, breaking him out of his little 'pep-talk'.

"Uh…no," Buster admitted sheepishly.

"If you're gonna help, you need to pay attention." Danny scolded lightly while watching him with sympathetic eyes. Buster bit his lip, feeling nervous under the intense look he was receiving. His mind unconsciously replacing the piercing blue with swirling green.

He wished Danny would stop being so nice. He wanted to stay mad. To believe he was a filthy liar. To believe that they were never really friends. This whole thing would be a lot easier if he could distance himself…at least then he would know how to feel.

He knew Danny didn't really want him there, he could sense the regret emanating from his entire being. He just didn't understand why Danny had given in so easily. Why he convinced Dash to let him come. Why he had entrusted Buster with weapons he had no business being around. Why he had fought ruthlessly with his best friends to let Buster get on the plane.

Why he had even started this whole fight, miles away from home, in the first place. Did Danny just go around looking for trouble?

Then it struck. Like the apple on Newton's head.

This whole thing, the whole battle… it was all because of him.

Danny had gone through hell and back…for him. For his mom. He had gone through days of torture. Shed pints of blood. For Buster. For Bitzi. For the thousands of victims. And now, he was willing to go through it all again, for Wes.

Buster had blamed him. Had yelled at him. Had almost hated him. Both sides of him.

And he just sat there and took it. Smiled and told him to stay safe. He protected him…he had always been protecting him.

A surge of guilt and regret mixed with something much stronger than determination washed over his body. A lump formed deep in his throat as a fresh wave of adrenaline coursed through his veins. He swallowed thickly, eyes trained outside the window, unable to meet the gaze of the heroic ghost he thought he'd known. Unable to accept the sympathy from the selfless boy he didn't understand. "Sorry, I'm listening."

"Alright, I'll give you a complete run through." Danny stated as he glided around a tall building. Buster nodded. "Sam is going to work from the Speeder, you, me and Tuck are going in."

Sam made a defiant sound, she wasn't too happy with the arrangement, but she didn't argue. They had probably been through that part already, by the looks on the boys' faces. Tucker seemed unsure of the plan as well, but he appeared to trust Danny's choices more than Sam did. Buster understood her completely, he would have argued if he were in her place. Bringing the untrained Buster in was more than a bit crazy, even if it was what he wanted.

"We're all going to be connected through the Fenton Phones, that's the bit in your ear." He reached up and touched the device, only now becoming aware of its presence. "You aren't going to leave my side, unless I say so…then you'll be with Tuck. Got it?" He said sternly.

Buster nodded. "Got it," more relieved by the order than he would like to admit.

"I'm not going ghost unless it's absolutely necessary or else our cover will be blown faster than you can count to three, so we're going to have to be strategic. I'll turn us invisible at point of entry, I don't think I'll be very detectable that way, but that's it. You'll have to remain hidden on your own terms at all times."

He gulped, unsure of his skills. Hide and seek had never been a strength in his book.

"We aren't sure how much personnel are present on site, but our goal is not to wipe them out. We are not trying to destroy them ourselves."

Buster turned his eyes sharply towards the guy, surprised. He had assumed that was what all the weaponry was for. The other three were loaded with shiny metal, even Sam who wasn't even going to step into the battle field. Danny carried the bulk of it, despite his natural abilities, his borrowed t-shirt was hardly visible underneath the straps around his torso, an additional gun secured along his leg.

Noticing the confusion on his face, Danny offered him a soft smile. "They're still human," he said before falling silent, taking a moment to concentrate on directions. Finally he cleared his throat and continued. "Our only mission is getting Wes out alive, and wiping all evidence of our involvement. The FBI will do the rest. I wouldn't be able to carry that many people to safety fast enough even if I were at a hundred percent."

By the way Danny had been acting, Buster had almost forgotten he was still injured. Either he made a miraculous recovery, or he was hiding the pain. His money was on the latter. His anxiety level skyrocketed, Danny was the core of their operation and they were going to go in while he was hurt. He knew Danny could defend himself if he needed to, but it still made the situation a lot more dangerous than it should be.

"Tuck will work on locating the holding rooms through the security cameras and wiping the tapes of my last break-in from the mainframe, Sam will keep watch from outside, inform us if we have any additional threats, and wait for our signal before calling this in. You are going to be my back up, you'll cover me while we look for Wes. Do not shoot anyone or anything unless you think it's your only option. Hopefully, it won't come to that. You've never used the gun before and we don't need anyone getting caught in the cross fire. We want to come away from this with our hands as clean as possible." If Buster had been drinking water, he would have spit it right out. He was going to do what now? Danny was insane. He had wanted to help, but he never expected to have Danny's life…err…afterlife? In his hands.

"As soon as we've got Wes, we'll raise the signal, grab Tuck, and evacuate."

He forced himself to calm down. Danny knew what he was doing, he probably didn't even need backup. He was just stringing Buster along. The plan was simple, he wasn't really supposed to do anything other than keep his eyes peeled. He had a rabbit's vision, that task was easy enough.

Danny flashed him a reassuring smile, probably sensing the panic, "Phantom will come back on his own to check on the aftermath and ensure the victims make it out once you're all safe, his involvement doesn't need to be secret." Tucker tore his gaze away from his screen at the words, mouth opening to protest. "He'll stay as out of sight and trouble as much as he can Tuck, promise."

Buster thought it was strange how Danny could talk about himself in third person. Perhaps it was a coping mechanism. Made it easier for him to live a double life. Or maybe he was doing it for his sake, so Buster was comfortable with the idea.

His mind buzzed when he thought about it. Phantom and Danny had been such opposite parts of his life. Literally night and day. Yet it was oddly easy to see the truth.

The wispy white hair was not much different than the unruly black. Their strange sense of humor were tragically identical, the laughter only distinguished by the slight echo. Phantom's incongruous humanity. Danny's unexplainable strength. Phantom's fights. Danny's bruises. Phantom's nightly soar across the sky. Danny's love for the stars.

Even now, Phantom's confidence was laced in Danny's orders. There was no way it wasn't true. Danny had accepted it himself. He had seen the impossible transformation for crying out loud. Wes had been trying to tell him all along. The entire universe had been trying to tell him.

But it was too bizarre of a conclusion for him to have ever even considered. Buster believed in weird things, but he had never thought it were possible for a dead kid to roam amongst the living. He'd never thought the life that he had been so worried about was gone long before he was a part of it. That the bleeding body sprawled on the ground was far beyond repair.

Danny said he wasn't dead though. He usually had no trouble believing things people told him. However, the line between life and death was a compelling boundary. An argument that the logical part of his brain could not lose. A living ghost was just too far off, even for Buster.

"We're here," Danny suddenly declared.

It had felt like they were only flying for ten minutes tops…but with one look at the digital clock, he realized it had almost been a two hour journey. Glancing out the window, his heart rate picked up. Memories of that night crashed into his consciousness, colliding with the brave face he had been trying to keep going. He avoided looking over towards the field, his throat constricting at even the thought of what it doubled as.

Danny unbuckled himself and stood by the window, placing a firm hand on Buster's shoulder, squeezing tightly but discreetly. Buster smiled sadly at the gesture. He had never asked Phantom to keep mother's death a secret, yet Danny somehow knew it was what he wanted. He didn't want the pity. He couldn't understand how Danny did that, he read him like an open book. Ever since the beginning. Nobody else, except Arthur, seemed to know him that well. Arthur had known him for years though…Danny was different. He just knew.

"Looks like there's only one air craft here, all the others probably turned back thanks to my little ice show," he chuckled softly but bitterly and stalked away, the limp still slightly visible. "That doesn't mean we can keep our guard down though…it's still working hours, the scientists and other personnel are probably still in."

Tucker shot out of his seat, slamming his laptop shut. "Alright Danny, the security is down. I made sure not to trip any alarms. But I can't keep it that way for too long so we need to hustle. They really upped their game after your first break in." The air around them charged with electric tension as everything became more real.

Danny straightened and instantly locked eyes with the girl still seated. "Okay, Sam keep the speeder invisible. Make up whatever excuse you can think up to get the FBI down here as fast as possible…local Police isn't enough."

She rolled her eyes but smiled confidently, "I know Danny, and I heard you the first ten times. I've got it under control, Just hurry."

He gave her a sheepish grin before turning towards Buster. "You ready?" he asked quietly.

Buster took a deep breath and nodded, "ready as I'll ever be."

"Hold on."

* * *

With his back pressed tightly against the wall of the vaguely familiar dark basement hallway, his heart pounding obnoxiously in his ears, he cautiously reached out and wrapped his fingers around the metal door handle. He watched as the bonds between the solid's particles faded, defying several laws of matter that he hadn't bothered to learn. They didn't apply to him anyway.

Danny swallowed, clearing his mind of the doubtful thoughts that threatened to talk him out of the mission. He had to do this, he had to save Wes. He was the only one who could. They were not going to get him this time. This time he was prepared. He was going to make it out alive. They all were.

He shifted his eyes to meet the small boy beside him and placed a finger against his lips with his free hand. Buster nodded nervously in understanding. Satisfied for the time being, Danny looked over at Tuck who was positioned similarly to him at the other side of the door, hand hovering over the ecto-blaster on his hip. No words were necessary, Tucker offered him a thumbs up as he mentally counted down from three, fully aware of what lay ahead behind the door.

So far, they had made it through the building with little incidence. The entrance guards were a little put off by the small spike of ecto-energy that Danny's human use of power elicited. Yet, their presence seemed to be dismissed as a fluke. These guys were dumber than he originally thought.

Gathering his confidence with that reassuring thought, he swiftly elbowed open the locked barrier and slithered in alone.

His eyes were hit with the blinding light of dozens of large monitors, forcing them shut for a split second with a small wince. Recovering quickly, berating himself for breaking his own rule, Danny opened his eyes only to be met with another barrier… of the human kind.

The relatively sloppy man slumped over in his torn chair, tiredly wiping a ketchup stain from his unkempt white uniform, let out a surprised yelp and instantly swiveled around. His weapon drawn within a nanosecond, glaring menacingly at the intruder. "How did you get in here punk?" he snarled. Taking in the features of the boy before him as Danny daringly stepped into the light, a smirk on his face, the guard's eyes flashed with recognition and confusion. Daniel Fenton was supposed to be dead. He reached up, expertly masking the panic from his face, fingers aiming for the emergency button on his communication device.

Danny had to give it to him, he was fast. But Danny, well he was faster. Before even his own mind could comprehend what had happened, the guard was down. Knocked unconscious, communication device sliding, inactivated, across the floor. Danny's hand was held out in front of him, straight and stiff. He stared at it and smiled smugly, brain catching up to his actions. He grabbed the man's limbs and roughly brought them together behind his back. "Tucker, rope." he commanded.

The two remaining boys entered the room, Tucker unhooked the desired item from his belt and tossed it over, wasting no time as he plopped into the torn seat in front of the high-tech system and began typing away. Danny proceeded to tie up the man, quietly and efficiently, tearing a sleeve off the guy's white jacket and using it as a makeshift gag.

As he dragged the guy over into the corner, his gaze fell on Buster. The boy stood in the doorway, staring at their hostage. "I thought we weren't targeting them" he said accusingly, a tinge of fear in his voice that Danny knew was directed towards him.

Danny inwardly grimaced, his relationship with Buster was going to come out of this more battered and bruised than when they got here. He could only hope he would be able to pick up the pieces. Looking away, he sighed, "Don't worry, I just knocked him out. He'll be fine in a couple of hours."

"Goth 1 to Clueless 1, how's the progress goin? Over," a voice crackled through, saving him from the awkward silence that was sure to fall.

"Clueless 1 to Goth 1, we've infiltrated the control room. About to initiate the rest of the plan. Over," he replied, straightening back up and walking away from the unconscious heap to look over Tucker's shoulder.

"Roger that, no suspicious activity out here. Keep me posted. Over."

He nodded his head curtly, despite the fact that Sam couldn't see him. "Will do. Over," and turned his attention onto the screens, scanning his eyes across them.

"Why are you clueless 1?" Buster asked curiously from behind them, apparently over the bout of distrust already. Danny turned to look at him, a light blush creeping onto his face as he scratched the back of his head. He opened his mouth to stammer out a plausible answer when Tucker beat him to it. "He doesn't know, hence the name," he chuckled evilly.

Danny scowled down at him before smacking him upside the head. Contrary to popular belief, Danny did know the origin to the name. He figured it out…eventually. However, it was old news by then. The name just stuck. Irritated by Tuck's childish humor at his expense, "Can we just focus?" he grumbled.

"Right, well you weren't kidding when you said this place was huge man. There's probably a bazillion cameras…." Tucker said, his voice suddenly serious, fidgeting with his glasses before typing away and changing the views on the screens a couple of times. "Oh here's a place that looks like a…um…jail. Maybe he's in there, the picture quality isn't all that great."

Danny looked at the image, he could make out bodies behind the metal bars, but no distinguishing features were visible. He swallowed dryly, they had cuffed him…a prison was a likely location. Closing his eyes, he steeled his nerves and stepped back.

"Okay, give me directions through the Fenton phones," he demanded and was met with an affirmative nod, he looked towards the kid who appeared completely out of place and smiled half-heartedly. "Let's go dude."

Buster sucked in a heavy breath as he wiped sweaty palms against his thighs. "Right behind you."

Danny hesitated, watching the nervous gesture. His mind instantly screamed that Buster should just stay here with Tuck…it was a lot safer. But he pushed the thought away. Buster was here to help and he needed all the help he could get.

Turning his head away, he stepped out of the open door and into the eerie expanse of the facility. He shifted his gaze around him, as if checking for traffic before crossing, and pulled out a blaster from the holster strapped around his leg. He held it out in front of him, feeling like a cop from one of those TV dramas during a raid. Buster got the message and followed his lead, covering him from the back.

Tucker, getting visual on them, began spouting out directions that he stealthily followed. Tip-toeing down the path, he forced his mind clear of any lingering distractions and concentrated on the sound of his friend's down-to-business voice. It wasn't close to the first time he heard Tucker sound that way, but it still unnerved him. It reminded him how dangerous their lives had become. How badly it could end. How much they were risking every day. How much they had already lost…

Suddenly, his body was overcome with a strong spell of anxiety. Something was wrong. He stopped abruptly in his tracks, Tucker's voice doing the same. It was kind of creepy how he knew exactly what to do without any bit of verbal communication. But, Tuck could see the urgency in Danny's change in posture, visual cues had become second nature by now.

Footsteps. Loud and Heavy. He could hear them approaching, there were only two pairs of them. They were too far away for a normal human to pick up, but he knew their paths would cross soon. He needed to make sure that didn't happen.

"Why'd you guys sto—" Buster tried to ask. Danny's eyes widened at the loudness of his whisper. Thinking fast, he wrapped his arm around from behind, muffling the question and pulling them both into a narrow dead-end hallway conveniently beside them. They ducked behind a large medical cart that hopefully was bulky enough the obscure any view of them through the shadows.

Buster seemed to understand, he made no further attempt to speak, yet Danny kept his hand over his mouth for good measure. The only sound among the three of them was their shallow breaths.

It took longer than he originally expected for the steps to come into audible range for regular human ability. He felt Buster tense and unconsciously back up closer to him as the menacing sound echoed around the empty path. Danny knew he couldn't turn them invisible or else he would just set off a blip on their devices, weak or not, they were better off relying on the medical cart.

There was a strange yet disturbingly familiar smell haunting the air around them. The longer they stayed huddled together, the surer he felt it was emanating from their hiding spot. He looked up, his breath catching in his throat when he realized what was on top of the metal cart. A long bulky black bag. A body bag.

The smell of death filled his nostrils. Contaminating them. But, that wasn't the worst part. There was a pungency, a tanginess, which he was painfully accustomed to. It was ectoplasm. Yet not really.

It smelled more like his ectoplasm. The ghostly smell mixed with human. Ectoplasm and blood.

He always hated that smell. His stomach churned, head swimming. They were behind a dead body. A dead experiment. A human tainted with ghost…what were these people trying to do? His mind blanked at the thought, not wanting to think about it.

He was pulled back to awareness when he felt Buster trying to wriggle out of his grip. He hadn't realized how strongly he was holding on. Listening, he found that the steps had already passed them. Mentally scolding himself for not paying attention, he released his hold and apologetically looked towards his comrade.

They stood, breathing quietly for a few moments longer until he was sure the agents were far enough away, with his eyes drawn towards the black bag. His skin crawled as he imagined what the poor soul had gone through. Maybe if he had been faster, if he hadn't waited for two days, they would still be alive.

Looking away, he swallowed back bile and pressed the button on the ear piece. "Go ahead Tuck, coast is clear," he whispered, voice raspy with unwelcome emotion. If Tucker heard it, he didn't comment. They continued, as if nothing had just happened. He couldn't tell if Buster had noticed the bag. He opted not to ask. Pretended like it was never there. Yet it plagued his mind. The smell taking residence within his nose.

"Alright, it's behind that wall. Just a heads up, there are a lot of cells…and they seem to be packed. But on the bright side, it doesn't look like there are any guards around." Tucker informed them. Danny stared ahead of him, wondering if Wes was waiting behind the thick wall. He hadn't been here for very long. He hoped he was alright. He would never forgive himself if anything bad happened to the guy.

"Be careful boys." Sam whispered quietly, he smiled. He had almost forgotten she'd been listening in.

"We'll do our best." Danny replied, gaining back the false confidence in his voice.

Buster scratched his head, "how are we supposed to get through? I don't see a door." he put his weapon back into the strap and looked around. Danny stayed put. Staring.

"It's on the other side, it's pretty far…" Tucker responded, apparently searching through the various views and estimating the distance. Danny sighed, "I can phase us through if there's no shield." He was reluctant to do so, however wasting time walking towards the door was riskier than a minimal amount of ghostly activity. "Yup, there doesn't seem to be one, makes sense. This wing is for the humans."

Danny shook his head. This wasn't the time or place to let his emotions get in the way. He was supposed to be the strong one. He was the superhero. He was Danny Phantom.

The acquainted mask carefully formed across his face, he took a deep breath, looked over at Buster and held out his hand. Buster glanced curiously at the smile on his face before placing his hand in Danny's offered one. A slight chill overtook them and within a flash, they were at the other side of the offending wall.

Danny took in their surroundings, it was considerably dark despite a couple of dim lights that were glowing uselessly from the high ceiling. However, he could make out the dozens of cells that lined the narrow hallway from both sides, and if Tucker wasn't exaggerating about its size, there were probably dozens of more halls like this one. "You take the left wall, I'll go right. It'll be faster that way…just don't go out of my sight." He instructed, pulling out his flashlight and tossing it towards the kid. Buster caught it, gulped audibly but nodded.

Danny held out his palm, formed a small orb of bright ectoplasm and looked back up. "Even if you think you feel like something's wrong, tell me."

"Okay."


	19. Chapter 19: Know Thy Enemy

Shining the flashlight out in front of him, Buster held his breath, willing himself to take another step forward.

They had been searching for a while now, yet it wasn't getting any easier. Every cell he was forced to look through contained a horror story of its own, and he was not ready to witness another.

However, there was no familiar mop of red hair among the hordes of hundreds he had already seen…he had to keep going. He had to face the truth. He had to silently watch as the people around him suffered, unable to even utter a small semblance of hope. He had to desperately push the image of his mother, a vacant look in her eyes, crouched in a damp cell corner, out of his mind.

He couldn't think like that. He couldn't breakdown. Not now.

He could hear Danny's voice calling Wes's name, the steady sound masking a slight tremor behind it. There was something wrong with him, more than just the obvious, Buster could feel it. Something had happened when they were hiding, he couldn't put his finger on it, but Danny's demeanor had completely flipped. He was scared.

Buster couldn't be weak, not when Danny needed him.

"Hey! Watch where you point that thing. You can blind someone like that!" A raspy voice screeched out, startling him enough to drop the flashlight right out of his hands. Quickly, he scrambled to catch his primary source of light and promptly lifted it back up towards the sound, only to receive a frustrated growl in response.

"Oh I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to…you just scared me. No one else seemed to even notice the light." he stammered as he turned the bright stream away from what looked to be a young women, probably in her early-twenties.

"Aren't you a little young to be working for the government?" She asked, not bothering to acknowledge his apology.

"I don't work for those goons," he spat defensively, crossing his arms, horror taking over him from the accusation. She lifted a thin brow, a slight smirk on her cracked lips. "Ah, so a spy then are ya? You don't strike me as the type either…your friend over there, on the other hand, looks right at home." She said, looking over towards Danny at the end of the hall that they were currently in. Buster followed her gaze just in time to see Danny turn around, face illuminated by green light.

"Buster? Who are you talking to?" he asked as he approached, worry apparent in his tone.

The girl smiled cynically, waving a slim hand in the air. "Just a low-life prisoner, handsome, nothing to worry about."

Danny stopped in his tracks, staring at her disbelievingly. "You're the first lucid person I've seen in here," he commented, subtly trying to hide the otherworldly light originating out of his hand.

The girl darkly chuckled, meeting Buster's eye before leaning back against the concrete wall. "Who says I'm lucid, I could be well off my rocker and hallucinating you two. Wouldn't be the first time."

Swallowing thickly, Buster crouched down to her level. "How long have you been in here?"

She turned her head, cocking it to the side as she regarding him for a moment. "A long time, there isn't really a clock in here ya know?" she joked, a grin breaking through, "but not as long as most of these guys. The people I was taken with didn't make it, I was the only one brought in here."

Danny followed his example, crouching down onto his toes, in a position ready to jump up if he needed to. "What is this place?" He asked softly.

She gave him a tired glance then looked away as she spoke. "The incubation chamber."

Buster's eyes widened, Danny seemed to freeze beside him. "What?" he asked, unable to comprehend her words.

"Where they keep the experiments that need time, sweetie," she explained, pointing to the track marks of a needle in her inner right elbow, "they can't torture us until we're good and ready."

He didn't know what to say to that. She was staring at him, a tiny smile on her lips and sadness in her eyes. She was utterly beautiful, even with the dirt covering her hollowed out features. She had her whole life ahead of her, who were these guys to decide otherwise? He didn't think his hatred for the GIW could have ever increased, but as he sat watching her study him, he felt the pure rage double within.

"When was the last time they brought someone in?" Danny whispered, breaking the silence.

She turned her eyes away from Buster to gaze towards the older boy. "I haven't seen or heard anyone come in besides the food guy for quite some time now," she replied, before shamelessly winking at Danny, "your pretty faces are a nice change." Buster couldn't help but smile, he could tell she had one hell of a personality. It was nice to see that they hadn't been able to completely suck it out of her.

"Are you looking for someone?" she asked.

Danny nodded, running his fingers through his bangs. "Yeah."

She shook her head, "you won't find 'em in here hon."

"That's what I was afraid of," he whispered more to himself then anyone. Buster looked at him. He was really beating himself up over this, his eyes staring unseeingly passed the girl. Buster wished he could say something that would help, but he didn't know what to do. The place was huge, it was next to impossible to figure out where Wes could be. But they had to find him. They had to take him out of here so they could help this girl. So they could help the rest of these people who still had lives ahead of them.

Suddenly, a flashing red light cast over their crouched forms, a blaring alarm following close behind.

Loud and intrusive.

They both shot up to their feet, he could see Danny's face in flashes, the light casting shadows across his sharp features, making him appear scarier than Buster had ever witnessed. "Tuck! What's going on?!" He yelled over the commotion.

"Something set off the alarm, I don't know! I was so sure I bypassed everything!" Tucker frantically replied.

"Danny, just get out of there. I can see more crafts approaching, it's about to get messy." Sam worriedly informed them.

"But we haven't found him yet!" Buster protested before Danny had the chance.

"Tucker, he's not in here. Do you see any other possible area?" Danny asked, his voice suddenly calm.

"No there isn't anything."

Danny sighed, pushing his hair out of his face nervously. "I'm coming to get you then."

"What? No! I haven't deleted all the footage yet, your fight from last time was longer than you let on." Tucker avidly protested. "Tuck it's not safe, the control room is the first place they'll look," Danny countered, looking frustrated from the turn of events.

"I electronically locked the door, and put up two shields, they won't be able to come through. And if they do, I have weapons. Forget about me and find Wes, NOW!" he shouted in urgency, Buster figured he could see the agents through the cameras. They probably didn't have a lot of time before they found them.

Danny relented and got back to his toes. "Where had they kept you before?" he asked the girl who had been staring at them curiously.

"A lab," she answered, unable to offer up anything more helpful.

Nodding his head, Danny looked at her appreciatively. He curled his fingers around the metal bar, "we're going to get you out of here. I promise," he said softly, uttering the words Buster had wished he had the confidence to say. He admired that about Danny, even in the most hopeless situations, he never seemed to lose faith in his ability to save others. It's seemed to be the only thing keeping him moving forward.

The girl smiled at them, placing a hand around Danny's. "Don't make promises you can't keep. False hope is a fatal force."

* * *

They were cornered. He was so stupid. He should have just gone ghost when he had the chance, they knew someone was in here anyway. Now he was stuck fighting as Fenton, with Buster right in the line of fire.

At least there were only three of them for the time being, he could handle that. He kicked out, sending one tumbling down, landing on his long nose. Blood gushed out, the guy brought his hand up as he screamed painfully. It was broken.

"Should I just call it in now? Shooting at kids is a pretty good reason." Sam interjected as he dodged a pretty close shot.

Danny scowled, "no, wait till we find him."

"Another plane just landed. Danny this is getting out of hand." She replied worriedly, "they can help find Wes."

He summersaulted away from grasping meaty hands, glancing over at Buster stationed behind a trashcan. "Sam, just wait. We'll find him. I really can't talk right now." He pulled out his own blaster and shot the gun right out of a guy's grip, searing his gloves. He growled, annoyed and lunged towards him.

Thanking his lucky stars for his mom's recent training in hand to hand combat, he didn't back away. Trying his best to hold off the guys himself. Buster wasn't trained for this.

"All the labs are empty, the scientists seemed to have already called it a day. They don't even look that sketchy, just a couple of beakers of ectoplasm like your parents' place." Tuck informed him, "There's got to be another one," he gritted as he punched the side of a man's chiseled face.

"I know, but if there is, there aren't any cameras."

Tucker was right, they probably wouldn't have been recording it. The girl had been injected with something. He didn't want to acknowledge it, but it was hard to deny. They were contaminating them with ecto-energy. He didn't know for sure what they did once the victims were 'ready,' but he had a hunch. He wasn't ready to accept it just yet. Whatever it was, it was too horrible to keep video evidence of.

Two were down, sprawled unconsciously across the hard ground. He stared darkly at the last agent standing as they rounded each other. Both forgetting about the weaponry at their disposal, animalistic rage blazing behind their eyes. "You won't make it out of here boy, you're out numbered."

Danny narrowed his eyes before flashing him an amused grin. He swiftly reached out and grabbed the agent, twisting his arm painfully while flipping him over and up against the grimy wall. "From where I'm standing, you're the one short-handed."

The guy chuckled as he elbowed Danny in the gut, right in his healing wound. Staggering backwards, Danny lost his hold, coughing painfully. He quickly recovered, dodging a roundhouse kick to the head. He slid between the man's legs, buckling in his knees before he roughly slammed him to the ground. He held his fingers above a pressure point when the agent spoke. "Even if you manage to beat me, there'll be more. I've got backup two minutes away. Face it kid, give up."

"Fat chance," he snarled before following through. Getting up, he winced in pain, wiping the sweat off his brow. "We need to move," he shouted towards Buster who quickly stood from his hiding spot. Picking up his weapon from where he skidded during the fight, he raced down the hall and away from the sound of approaching steps.

"Where are we going?" The kid yelled as they ran.

Danny glanced over his shoulder, meeting his eyes. "We need to find that hidden lab."

"Danny. That could be anywhere."

"I know, this way's as good as any to start looking."

The red light was still flashing, alarm blaring obnoxiously, frazzling his senses, keeping him on edge. He knew the situation was a tight one. He had no idea where to start. He wished these guys were as obvious as Vlad. In a way, they were, but there was no inconspicuous book shelves or detestable statues in a dingy basement. Where would the GIW hide a secret lab in a secret building?

At the thought of his arch-enemy, his irritating voice echoed through his head. "Know thy enemy, Daniel. You never know what you can utilize against him." He hated to admit that the bit of advice had come in handy on many occasions, especially against the man himself. But how was it going to help him now?

Suddenly he was pulled out of his thoughts as he felt a yank on his elbow, they skidded roughly against the ground and into a dark hall. Surprised he looked up at Buster, "What happened?"

Buster shook his head in disbelief, "weren't you paying attention, someone's coming," he whispered. Danny nodded, yanked out a ray gun and steadily held it over his shoulder, pointing it towards the opening of the hallway. They held their breath as the sound got louder, it sounded like wheels. He hoped to god it wasn't another body, he didn't think he could handle that.

Just as fast as the sound grew, it began to diminish. The man passed by without so much of a glance. It was just the 'food guy' that the girl had been talking about. 'At least they feed them,' he thought bitterly.

"I don't see how blindly running down the halls is helping," Buster said once the guy had passed. Danny looked towards him but didn't say anything, he didn't really think it was helping, he was just trying to get away.

"Are you alright?" the boy asked. Danny sighed, no he wasn't. Everything was wrong. He couldn't deal with this. The smell was over powering, he didn't even think it was really there anymore. But he could still feel it lingering in the air. They couldn't be doing what he thought they were doing. It was impossible. At least to the world, it was impossible.

"Danny?"

"Huh?" he looked up, Buster was watching him worriedly.

"Uh, yeah I'm fine," he said before pushing himself to his feet. "We'll slow down alright, we just need to keep going."

"They diverged their path from yours, you guys are good for now." Tucker crackled over the Fenton phone.

He swallowed, trying to rid the dryness of his constricting throat, "thanks Tuck." shaking his nerves, he stepped out, Buster not far behind him.

The halls ahead of them were winding, branching out into ominous twists and turns. It was dizzying. They must have opened dozens of doors, turned uncountable rooms upside down, searching for something, anything that would lead them through a secret passage.

It was fruitless. There was nothing. Wes was nowhere to be found. Doubt creeped up on him. What if he wasn't even here? What if they had already gotten rid of him?

His knees felt weak at the thought. What was he going to do? What would he tell his father? Wes was all he had left.

Angrily, he swiped clear the desk he had just pushed away from the wall, sending its contents flying across the room, a ceramic cat shattering at his feet. He was such an idiot. He should have just let himself die in the park. Why did he ever think asking Wes to save his worthless butt was a good idea?

"Danny, calm down," Buster whispered from the other end of the room.

"How can I calm down?!" He screamed. Kicking the stupid cat's decapitated head. "They're killing him and we can't do anything about it!" He gripped his hair and pulled with a frustrated growl. "It's all my fault!" Turning around, he blasted a round hole clean through the metal door.

"Danny! Stop!"

"Why should I?" he gritted, rage consuming him, hot green energy swirling at his fingertips.

"They'll hear you" Buster warned, "They can sense you, remember?" he added, slowly trying to approach, palms help up in a non-threatening stance.

His brain suddenly caught the logic in Buster's words. They were trying to stay out of sight. Screaming and tearing holes through a room wasn't the best way to do so.

"Right. Sorry," he whispered, shoulders slumping down. "Let's go to the next room, I don't think there is anything here."

Slowly, he let go of the bright power, reabsorbing it into his body. He shut his eyes tightly, supressing his surge of emotions, and turned towards the door. Just as he stepped forward, a strong force caught his frame, pushing him back. Leaving him dazed. He opened his eyes only to stare straight into beady blue painted ones, mirroring his expression. That stupid cat.

Sharply twisting his head up and spotting a smoking barrel in the hole he'd created, he groaned. They'd found them. Way to go Fenton.

The suppressed anger bubbled over, blinding his vision. His mind went blank as he sprang to his feet, not bothering with the pain from the impact. These guys were going to pay. He moved without a thought in his brain. It was all mechanical. Punch. Kick. Dodge. Fire. There was a crack, a groan, pain. White hot pain.

Somewhere from the back of his mind he registered that someone was fighting along with him.

Buster. No, he wasn't supposed to fire that gun. He never taught him how.

There was no time to tell him to stand down. They were coming in hoards. He knocked a few of them out with no trouble at all, but there were too many of them. They had somehow moved to a larger area. He darted to the left, a rocket blaster tore down the wall behind him. Wes wasn't in there either.

"I managed to block most of the entrances to where you guys are. The others can't get to you for now." Tucker provided, worry laced in his words. He nodded and not sparing any time to reply, fired a powerful blast

He fell, something sliced through his knee. The searing pain shot up his leg as fresh blood seeped down. He gritted his teeth. Growling as he pushed past it, jumping into a fighting stance.

There were at least ten agents left. He didn't have eyes on Buster, but he knew the majority of attackers wouldn't be heading his way. They were targeting Danny. Their primary threat. Somehow finding the confidence, he smirked, wondering how they felt losing to a teenager. He watched as uncertainty flickered across their faces, his smirk deepened. The baton in his hand expanded, a menacing glint in his eye.

The battle was long and brutal, they must have been fighting for hours. Or five minutes. It was hard to tell. He was getting tired. Sweat dripped down his back as he lifted his good leg and kicked a guy square in the jaw. The man let out a scream, arms raised forward in an attempt to gain balance, falling in slow motion. A sickening crack echoed as he landed on someone's bent elbow.

Danny stood, chest heaving, staring at the numerous bodies lying on top of one another. Challenging them to move. He let a small smile of triumph form on his face; he got them all.

The moment passed, he blinked, remembering Buster. Fear gripped him once again. He took a step back from the mess, about to call out for him when the kid beat him to it. "Danny! Watch out!"

Without thinking, he reacted, ducking his head just in time for a warm blast to shoot past his head, singing the tips of his hair. Swiveling around on his heel, he stared at the man sliding down the wall. Black human gun clattering uselessly onto the cold hard ground. His white suit burnt where the blast hit, droplets of blood dripping from his head onto its pressed material.

He turned his head and stared disbelievingly at Buster, stunned by the accuracy of the shot. Giving him an approving smile, appreciation in his eyes, he turned back to glare at the last agent. He was still conscious, but in no condition to move.

Slowly, he limped forward, grimacing at the throbbing of the reopened wound. Bunching the soiled suit into his fist, he pulled the guy close. "Looks like you've got a cleanliness breach there man, probably should get on that."

As the taunt left his lips, his brain whirled to life.

Cleanliness breach…of course! How hadn't he thought of it sooner? He smiled widely, probably disturbing the man he still held in his grasp. "Know thy enemy," he whispered giddily before dropping the guy into an injured mass against the wall.

"Tucker, where's the laundry room?" he asked, his voice strangely cheerful.

"The laundry room?" Tucker echoed, confused.

"Yeah," he replied, not bothering to elaborate his thoughts.

"It's not too far. Two lefts and a right," Tucker supplied after a moment.

He looked towards Buster who still held the gun in his hands staring at the agent he had just shot. Danny sucked in a breath and went up to him, placing a tentative hand on his shoulder. The kid flinched by the sudden contact but quickly recovered when he realized it was just him.

"Nice shot," he complemented softly, guilt building as he took in the lost expression.

"Thanks," Buster smiled half-heartedly, shook his head and looked away, a bleeding slash visible across his right cheek. The corner of his t-shirt charred and stained by a stray blast.

Danny knew how he felt, it was never easy injuring a person, even in defense. Ghosts were simple, he let himself believe they could always recover, but humans? No matter how evil, were just that, humans.

He wished Buster hadn't been forced to fight. He hadn't even been watching out for him. He could have gotten hurt. Or worse.

But he didn't. He was fine. Somehow, he held his own. Danny was shocked, he didn't know Buster had it in him. But anger could do that to a person. He should know.

"I'm sorry," Danny voiced as he reached up and wiped the trickle of blood from the kid's cheek, "I shouldn't have lost control like that, it was dangerous."

Buster made no eye contact but shook his head, "it's okay. I get it. Wes is important to you."

Smiling slightly as he acknowledged the truth of the statement, "I know where to find him," Danny whispered.

The boy turned towards him, eyeing him skeptically, "you do?"

He nodded, adrenaline coursing through, excitement evident on his face. Buster watched curiously, but didn't question him as Danny jumped eagerly over the fallen agents, following quietly.

"Why are we in a laundry room?" he finally asked, once they walked through the double doors.

Danny grinned, "This is the most logical place," he said as he began pulling the room apart, "they're obsessed with keeping clean." White sheets littered the ground. Washing machine lids hung open. Detergents were knocked of their shelves. "If they were going to hide something, it'd be in here," he stated, his head stuck in dryer, muffling his voice.

Halfway through his rampage, Buster joined in. "I don't think I've seen this much white in one place before," he remarked as he pushed forward a metal rack stocked with pressed lab coats.

Danny walked forward and helped him, dropping his shoulders as they were met with a solid blank wall. Swiping the coats off the shelf, "they must go through gallons of bleach every week," he added.

Buster stared at him, Danny's words echoing through the large room. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" he whispered.

Danny licked his dry lips and nodded.

Simultaneously, they turned and scanned the room. Most of the bleach had already met the ground, bottles rolling around at their feet adding to the chaotic mess they made of the formerly pristine area.

However, there, in the back corner, sat a single bottle. Placed perfectly in the center of a small shelf.

He gulped as they both stared at it, knowing full well that they found what they'd been searching for. His heart pounding mercilessly in his chest. For a moment, he forgot how to breathe.

Stepping forward, crossing the distance with Buster by his side, he wrapped a hand around the smooth curved handle of the plastic bottle and pulled.

The wall shook.

Danny stepped back instinctively, pulling Buster by the back of his shirt. Tucker's voice suddenly sounded in his ear, shouting urgently, but he couldn't hear the static-filled words.

His senses were flooded, ears engulfed by the low rumbling around them as the wall receded.


	20. Chapter 20: Playing God

An uncanny ambiance radiated out, seeping through his clothes, getting under his skin. A chill settled deep in his core, although he was used to the feeling, with his made of literal ice, it unnerved him. His heart hammered loudly, echoing in his ears.

Danny had expected something dingy and dark. Something that resembled the prison they'd encountered not too long ago. However, as he looked forward, all he could see was a place much too familiar.

A lab, just like the one in his own home. Nothing to distinguish it from the almost-innocent work area he grew up around, was comfortable in.

He knew it was an illusion. Although his eyes may have been deceived, his other senses picked up the slack. He could sense it, with ever part of his soul. Nothing short of evil was condoned in the confines of this hidden chamber. He could hear it, touch it, taste it…smell it.

He hesitated, reluctant to step inside, afraid the moment he'd set foot on the shiny linoleum floor that it would dissipate, disintegrate into a plumb of smoke. Shattering the sweet illusion its image created.

"Danny! Danny, can you hear me?"

Taking a deep breath, he watched as his scuffed tennis shoe made contact, flinching subconsciously in anticipation. When nothing happened, he filled his lungs and pulled his body through, as if he were crawling through a small tunnel rather than the large expanse of a missing wall.

"Danny? Buster!? Oh man."

His eyes flitted across the room, noting it was actually larger then it initially seemed. The back wall was obscured by plastic curtains. He crinkled his eyes as he stared, confused by the familiar set up.

"Uh, yeah sorry Tucker. We can hear you"

It reminded him of a hospital. It made him want to turn on his heel, run away and never look back. It was odd, he has never felt an adversity to hospitals before. That was all Tucker…

"Don't scare me like that. I lost visual on you guys, what happened?"

At the thought of his friend, he realized that he could hear his voice filtering through the thick fog in his head. It was muffled.

"We found the passageway."

Suddenly everything snapped back into place, time began to move forward. Buster was talking, he was right beside him. Tucker was talking to him, he sounded terrified.

"What happened to Danny?" Tucker asked after a moment of silence.

"Nothing, I'm good. I'm here," Danny mumbled, catching Buster's eye. The boy stared at him accusingly but Danny quickly looked away. "I think we found him, I'm gonna come get you soon…hurry it up in there," he instructed, gaining back his brave face, one that was getting harder for him to grasp.

"Sure thing," Tucker agreed in a clipped tone.

Talking a deep breath, his eyes trained on the curtains, not a doubt in his mind that Wes was behind the thin sheet of plastic, "Sam?" he prompted.

"On it," she replied, not needing further instruction, more than ready to get the boys out of the building as fast as possible.

Steeling his nerves he glanced back at Buster. The kid nodded, having noticed Danny's source of discomfort, he knew where they had to go. Quickly but quietly they spanned the endless stretch of linoleum towards their destination.

Danny's quivering fingers grasped the crinkling material, and with a deep breath, he peeled it away.

The smell of death hit him 10-fold, clawing at him with its sharp talons.

He stepped back, turned around, hunched over and retched on to the floor. His body trembled, throat burned as dry heaves tore through.

Buster had backed away, eyes wide, hand over his mouth, muffling a scream. He stood frozen several feet from what they uncovered, his eyes trained at the gory sight of what once was a human being.

Pushing himself up, Danny turned back and stared. Unable to believe what he was seeing.

He was dead. The body before him had not an ounce of life left in him. Thin limbs lay stark still, bones almost poking through. Eyes eerily remained open, glinting off the bright lights surrounding them, yet no amount of light could imitate that spark of life. His jaw hung slack, contorted as if in mid-scream. Cold skin peeled back, pins holding it in place, exposing what lay beneath the ribs, blood pooling and congealing around the wound. His hair angrily shaved off, nicks and cuts visible, blonde tuffs left behind.

Danny closed his eyes. He wished he could burn the image out of his brain. The poor boy looked to be not a day older than thirteen. Probably a run away. These people had no souls.

Buster hadn't moved. He was silent. Stricken. Frozen.

Danny shuddered. The cubicle creepily mimicked a hospital room. Machines were still hooked up to the boy, but instead of the semi-comfortable bed, he lay on a cold metal slab. The setup was so strangely innocent, yet malicious. The glinting of the sharp metal tools lay neatly on the work benches, meticulously cleaned. Danny caught sight of a speck of blood on the tip of a scalpel, they had missed it.

He lifted his eyes and looked towards the next curtain. The room was split, there were others behind the thin barrier. There had to be. Wes was here. His heart beat sped up. Mind blanking as he stepped forward and ripped the next curtain. Then the next. And the next. Dead, dead, all dead.

His chest moved rapidly, trying to keep up. Hyperventilating, his vision blurred. There was only one section left. One last body.

"Danny, they are gonna be here in twenty minutes tops. Get him out of there," Sam urged worriedly.

He could feel the time fleeting through his fingers, the constant ticking of the non-existent clock coercing him to move. Closing his eyes, he reached forward and carefully pushed the plastic away. The swish of the material echoed loudly in his ears.

He stared ahead, focusing his eyes, gazing at the limp body hidden underneath the magnitude of attachments hooked up to beeping machinery.

He gasped.

The pale skin was littered with ugly bruises, knuckles swollen with defensive wounds. Bottom lip split open, indicative of a rough fight. Hair dripped with sweat, red strands plastered against his forehead. If Danny didn't know better, he wouldn't have recognized the boy.

There was no movement, save of the gentle rise and fall of his battered chest.

He was alive.

He made it, the only one.

"Wes?" he whispered as he subconsciously closed the distance between them. He watched as he unconsciously lay on the same metal slabs as the bodies lined up behind him. It was a horrifying sight, he just wanted to get him out. "Please wakeup," he begged under his breath repeatedly, desperately.

Could he just phase him through the equipment? Would it hurt him? His hand hovered over the boy's arm, unable to get himself to touch him.

"…Fenton?" a soft voice murmured, Danny jerked his head up in time to see two lidded hazel-green eyes staring back at him. "S'bout time."

Overcome by a flood of relief, "Hey Wes. We're gonna get you out of here dude. You're going to be okay," he rambled, a watery smile on his face.

"Shut… up…I'm g'na kick y'r butt for this," the boy groaned.

Danny couldn't help the bubble of laughter that passed through his lips. Wes glared at him the best he could, pain shining brightly in his glazed eyes. The look instantly sobered him up, bringing Danny off of the sudden euphoria from finding the boy alive. He looked around, eager to get the machines unhooked with minimal damage to Wes' health.

Slowly and carefully he began ripping off electrodes, slipping out needles, and pulling out tubes.

The beeping of the machines abruptly spiked, an error code blaring urgently into his right ear. He ignored it, furrowing his brow in concentration. If it wasn't hurting Wes, it wasn't his problem.

Finally free of the wiry burden, Wes groaned, "Can't move…"

Danny winced in sympathy, "Don't worry, I got you." Lifting his limp lanky arm, Danny placed it around his own shoulder and hoisted him up into a seated position.

He was in the process of coaxing him off the edge of the slab when a loud voice penetrated the commotion around them, "Hey!"

A resonating thud followed by clattering of metal and a familiar muffled scream later, Danny found himself staring, wide eyed, at a middle-aged stranger in a lab coat.

"Buster!" he screamed in shock. Leaping forward, while simultaneously supporting Wes' weight, his eyes ricocheted between the man, his friend, and the sharp metal object held against his throat.

"One more move and I'll bury this scalpel right into his jugular," the man gritted, a crazed gleam in his eyes.

Danny tightened his grip on Wes, unconsciously pulling him closer, as he stared deep into Buster's terrified eyes. His mouth was gagged by the man's other hand, holding him securely against his looming body. Trapped.

Danny's world plummeted.

The walls felt as if they were finally closing in. This was the last straw.

A string of berating thoughts emerged from every nook and cranny of the room, swirling out, bombarding him, and reminding him that it was all his fault Buster was even here. The large pleading eyes sent pangs of guilt throughout his body, blaming him, suffocating him.

He couldn't move, the man's words somehow holding him in a binding spell.

Then, the gleam in the man's eye shifted. He raised his thick brow in mild surprise as something close to recognition glinted in his grey pupils. "Daniel Fenton," he stated in thinly veiled amusement, "aren't you supposed to be dead?"

And just like that, the spell broke. Danny noticed as the man's posture relaxed a miniscule amount, the sharp edge moving tiny bits away from his friend's vulnerable throat.

Rookie mistake.

In that moment, with grasping fingers, he latched on to the small shred of hope. Danny closed his eyes and pushed away ever sliver of resentment and doubt he carried on his burdened shoulders. His thudding heart pumped harder, carrying forward a fresh dose of adrenaline as his body prepared to fight. He was here to win, and he knew exactly how he was going to do it.

His own body shifted, the language going through such a drastic change, he felt Wes tense against him.

"You've got to be careful with those pesky rumors," he chided lightly, his eyes holding a confident and challenging taunt.

He watched as the man surveyed him, a tiny smirk curling at the corner of the guy's slimy mouth. Buster's eyes seemed wary with a new layer of fear. He hoped, with everything he had, that Buster trusted him enough for this to work.

"Well, _Fenton_ , I suggest you step away from my specimen," The apparent scientist spat, seeming to be enjoying the situation.

Wes flinched, his breaths quickened. Danny's eyes narrowed, gut twisting in disgust by the sheer _pleasure_ on the guy's face.

His own smirk playing at his lips, "No."

Bony fingers dug into his shoulder, "Danny," Wes gritted, "he'll kill 'im."

No way in hell was he going to throw the boy back to the wolves. He ignored him. Opted instead to hold the glaring contest he was having with the despicable excuse of a human being.

A full grin broke out. Taking in the confident aura around the pale and injured teenager, the scientist snickered, eyeing his bloodied leg. "Breaking in once was a bold move, but twice? You really are something kid."

Shrugging his shoulders, Danny playfully tilted his head, "it's not like I could've forgotten about such an _interesting_ place. The rest of the world was really missing out. I just had to spread the news."

The scientist's smile faltered as he took in the implications of the statement, brow furrowed lightly. The scalpel moved a millimeter away. "You're bluffing," he accused, sounding unsure of his own statement.

"The FBI is less than fifteen minutes away, this is over. Let him go." Danny stated firmly, his eyes watching the weapon intently, dropping any hint of lightness of his earlier tone.

"Hah! As if they could lay a finger on our organization," the man hooted obnoxiously. Tightening his grip on metal object, he erased any space created between its sharp edge and the soft skin, forming a light indent. His eyes narrowed, the smirk reformed, his voice deepened, "Kid, there isn't anything a little money can't solve."

"Bribery, nice," Danny snorted, trying not to let any distress show through his act. "Maybe it'll work with the government officials, but what about the good ol' American citizens? How many people are you going to pay off? This will all be front page news come morning. Face it, it's over."

For a moment, no one spoke. The shrill beeping of the machinery leapt at the chance to take over, their sounds penetrating the silence, resonating with his entire body.

"You think you're clever, don't you?" the man growled, jostling Buster around as he leaned forward threateningly, "you don't even have the mental capacity to grasp the gravity of the ingenious, innovative work I've done down here, much less publish it."

Danny's breath caught in his throat as a soft whimper sounded. He snapped his eyes towards his captive friend and took in the thin trickle of blood collecting within the hollow of his neck. A familiar burn seeped into his irises, his own blood boiling under the heat. Quickly shutting his eyes, he forced in a deep breath. He couldn't deny it any longer. His suspicions had to be true, there was no other explanation. Danny gritted his teeth, "I know what you were trying to do."

The man seemed to sense that Danny had somehow cracked, he looked down and noticed the trail of red, "Oh?" he asked with a smile in his voice. Sticking out his pinky finger, he swiped the thin substance, smearing it over his Adam's apple, "please enlighten me."

"Don't," Wes whispered in his ear, trying to reel him back in. If Danny were thinking straight, he might have listened. But that wasn't going to get them out of this mess.

He swallowed thickly, tearing his eyes away from the smear, he locked them on mocking grey ones. "Genetic enhancement, recombination, mutation...Kidnapping, Torture, Murder," he listed, eyes narrowing, voice dangerously low.

"Such big words…and even heavier accusations," the scientist chuckled, licking his cracked lips, looking moderately impressed. He shifted his weight, the sharp edge finally moving away from the shallow wound.

Danny eyed Buster's right arm, flitting his gaze towards the boy's eyes and back to the unrestrained limb. Adjusting his own weight, he raised his brow curiously, "What I want to know is, why? What possessed you to even attempt such a thing?"

Buster's hand opened and closed, testing out the waters. Danny shook his head subtly. They had to wait.

He shot Danny a demeaning look, "Ghosts are such interesting creatures, formed with a powerful substance capable of mesmerising things. However, they lack a sort of…stability to be useful in the long run, on the human plane," The man explained. Oblivious to the exchange, his eyes glinted with a creepy level of enthusiasm.

"Useful? For _what_?" Danny asked incredulously, the horror and utter rage unhidden on his features.

A malicious grin took up half of the guy's face, marveling at the emotions he was able to elicit from the teen. It gave him the sense of control he craved. "Things beyond what I'm willing to disclose, Fenton."

Danny let out a low growl, it took every muscle in his body to keep him from knocking every tooth out of that infuriating smile. That bastard had it coming. He had no right. "What makes you think, if you were to succeed, that you would have the power to control them?"

Appearing genuinely baffled, "Whatever do you mean?"

"We don't have time for this Danny! Just get them out!" Sam's urgent voice cut in. He knew she was right. He shouldn't be wasting his time arguing, he shouldn't be _antagonizing_ him. He needed to talk him down. But he didn't stop. He couldn't.

"They'd be more powerful than you," he declared boldly, taking a step forward, dragging Wes with him. His action went unnoticed however as the man bellowed with laughter.

"They would no longer be _human_ ," he pointed out, as if the simple fact debunked Danny's statement. Lifting his hand away from Buster's mouth, he gently caressed his cheek, "humanity will always dominate. Those _creatures_ will be less than. They would have no right, no will."

Danny flinched, the words cutting a bit too deep. The guy noticed. Mirth glimmered in his glare, regarding him with heightened interest. Danny's own glare hardened. Ignoring the mental wounds, it was nothing he hadn't heard before, "are you sure about that?" he barked, stepping even closer.

Dropping his arm, leaving Buster ungagged, the scientist smiled condescendingly, "Certain."

The man's utter conviction sent his skin crawling, he jumped forward angrily, "who do you think you are?" Danny roared, hurt and rage consuming him, "some sort of god? You don't even understand the product of your own creation."

"Calm down," Wes gasped, trying to keep up with the movement. Danny reached up and pushed Wes' arm off of his shoulder, holding him steady by only an arm around his thin waist.

The man was gaining a tad too much enjoyment out of their confrontation, he didn't even stop to notice how little distance was left between them. His hand reached up, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. "And let me guess, you do?"

Danny rolled his eyes, an elusive smirk forming. "I have a pretty strong idea," he confessed scandalously.

"Danny, Stop" Tucker urged, sounding alarmed by the disclosure of information, seeming to know what he was about to do next. By the sound of his voice, he highly disapproved. He didn't have eyes on them, he didn't really know what was going on.

"I hear sirens," Sam warned. Danny's heart rate picked up. As much as he needed his friends, they were not helping. He reached up and switched off the device in his ear, effectively blocking out the distracting voices echoing in his head. Sweat poured down his temple, he had to act fast.

"That's rich," the genius fool scoffed. His posture was relaxed, he didn't think there was any danger. He had deemed Danny's threat a bluff a long time ago. To him, he was just a stupid kid in way over his head.

Danny sneered at him and watched as his body suddenly shook with a violent shiver, "is it?" Pursing his lips, the man looked down at his feet.

Faster than humanly possible, Danny let go of Wes and dived. Buster took that as his cue to act, jabbing his elbow into the man's groin, he grabbed the hand with the scalpel, fighting with all his might to push it away from his throat.

Distracted by the impossible layer of ice trapping his feet to the linoleum floor, the man didn't know what hit him. His eyes grew comically wide, he let out a pained yowl followed by a surprised yelp, struggling to gain back control.

Danny eyes glowed a light blue, locking gazes with the panicked man before cool streams shot out, crystalizing his upper body, including his choice of weapon. Simultaneously, Danny grabbed the small boy's arm, phasing him out his captor's grasp and pulled him protectively towards his side. He flew back instantly and swooped up Wes, who let out a surprised shriek.

It happened so fast, the human brain was almost incapable of perceiving the act as reality. If it were not for the remnants of his ice powers entrapping the man, he might have tried to buy himself out of the situation.

But he wanted to gloat.

So he remained, in human form, effortlessly carrying two boys, floating four feet above the ground.

"T-that's impossible! How? What?!"

"You're a couple years behind on that 'creation' of yours."

Realization slowly dawned on his paralyzed features, his brain connecting the dots that had been carelessly laid out for him. His eyes glazed over, understanding his defeat. "You won't get away," he threatened, voice thick, "you'll be mine. I'll expose you. Everyone will know what you are." The man was grasping at straws, trying to desperately hold on to his delusion.

"Will they? And who would they believe? Danny Fenton was never here."

And with that, the three boys vanished into thin air, leaving the man to wonder if they had ever really been there at all.


	21. Chapter 21: However Long the Night

Upon hearing a vaguely familiar voice calling out in the darkness, Danny turned towards it, phased himself the rest of the way through the floor and passed the metal bars.

The girl twisted around and backed away in fear, pressing herself against her wall. Quickly looking him up and down, her face contorted into one of utter confusion. "What's going on out there?"

Danny smiled, held out his white gloved hand, "we're getting you out."

She stared at him in shock, eyes glistening as she processed his statement. He waited, floating in front of her, within the confines of the jail cell that had held her for who knows how long. His eyes landed on the others, slumped against the walls, almost lifeless. He'd come back for them.

Tentatively, she stepped towards him, eyeing his ghostly tail. Her lower lip quivered. Once she closed the distance, gold speckled eyes met neon green. Thin fingers slowly slid over his outstretched palm, wrapping around tightly, almost desperately.

Lowering his eyebrows, Danny softened his gaze, taking in how terrified she seemed. He hoped she never had to feel this way ever again. With one large sweeping motion, he grabbed her bridal style and soared through the ceiling.

She flinched reflexively, shivering as he turned them intangible, tightening her grasp. Her eyes, however, remained open. Taking in every detail of his face as white hair whipped across his cheek.

Looking out into the field, Danny spotted an empty ambulance and geared down, determination burning in his eyes. "Over here!" he called to a nearby paramedic who turned and jogged over.

Wasting no time, he lowered her on to the bed. The paramedics, instantly by her side, began rattling off questions, checking vitals. The girl didn't respond, allowing them to do as they pleased. Her eyes never left him. He floated, staring right back.

They began wheeling her away, lifting her into the back of the ambulance. Slowly, almost reluctantly, he turned his body. He needed to get back inside. He could easily carry more than one person at a time.

Just when he lifted off, shooting towards the thick wall, he was stopped in his tracks by a high pitched scream, "wait!"

Danny whirled around in alarm, the paramedic was just about the shut the door, but the girl had stopped him. Raising his brow, Danny flew forward, straight into the metal door. "What's wrong?" he questioned in a panicked voice, looking her over.

Her long arm reached out for him, beckoning him forward. "Come closer, Snow White."

He obliged, smirking at the weird nick name, slipping his hand comfortingly into hers. Smiling, she tightened her grip and pulled him towards her face. Lifting her head, she leaned in slowly and planted a soft peck on his cheek.

Danny stared at her, dumbfounded. His face heated up as a hand held onto the spot her lips had been moments before. "What was that for?" he squeaked, eye squinting in embarrassment.

She grinned, giggling and the stupid expression on his face before a much more serious look took over her dulled eyes. A sad smile formed on her lips as she gazed deep into his swirling irises, "for being the first person in my life to ever keep a promise." With that, she closed her eyes and lay her head back down.

The doors closed, the engine roared, the ambulance began to speed away. He remained floating in spot, allowing the vehicle to move through him. Staring after her, unable to form a coherent thought.

How had she known?

Feeling a cool wetness on the tip of his nose, he scrunched his face, shaking himself out of the momentary daze. Wiping it off, he gazed down at his hand, inspecting it. A rain drop.

Right on que, the thick overcast of clouds let out a low groan, and the damn broke. Steady streams pouring down. In a matter of seconds, he was soaked to the bone. Reaching up, he swooped his droopy stands out of his eyes and took in the commotion surrounding him.

He looked around, taking in the magnitude of emergency vehicles parked haphazardly around the large field. Red and blue lights illuminating the night, catching the rain drops. Victims being rushed to hospitals. GIW personnel progressively being marched out of the building, hands bound in cuffs. Federal Agents teeming the perimeter, barking into walkie-talkies.

He noticed a couple of people by the graves. A shovel glinting in the grass. A deep shiver ran down his spine.

He sighed deeply, turning his head back to gaze in the direction she had gone.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

It was dark and quiet. The rain had stopped ages ago, leaving only the musty smell of old wet wood behind. Four shadowy figures were gathered in the Foley's attic. Three sitting, immobile, against the walls, one laying prone on the floor atop of a dusty duvet. The only sound that could be heard was the distant chirping of the crickets mingled with their soft breaths.

He wasn't sure how long they stayed that way, not a word exchanged between them, his mind was elsewhere. Replaying the past day over and over in his head. His hand reached up, grazing the bandage on his throat, still unable to decipher if it all really was some wild nightmare.

He shifted his gaze ever so slightly to look through the tiny slit of a window, delicate shimmering moonlight filtered through, illuminating the room in its soft hold. He couldn't help but be reminded of his late night adventures with Phantom, watching the boy tell his many stories, moonlight catching his excited eyes.

He wondered where he was. He knew it was a long two hour ride back home using the UFO-like contraption. He also knew it would take Phantom longer since he was going to fly on his own…but it was getting pretty late. Or early, depending on how you looked at it. His stomach was in knots, after the whirlwind of a day, he couldn't help but worry. He just wanted him to come home.

As if reading his mind, a small voice broke through the silence. "There you guys are," the new figure whispered, with only a wispy image of a translucent head phased through the floor. Somehow ascending perfectly into the space between Sam and Tucker, a space left just big enough for a lean teenage boy. He slowly pulled the rest of his body up.

Buster watched as the matching sullen expressions on the two faces vanished, warm but tired smiles in their place. He felt his own face mirror the look, a heavy weight lifting off his shoulders.

The ghost was instantly sandwiched in a tender embrace, a soft chuckle escaping Phantom's lips as he lightly wrapped his arms around them. Pulling away, Tucker resumed his position against the wall. Phantom slumped back along with him, the mesmerizing ring of light cascading across his body as he supported his tired weight against his best friend, head resting heavily on his shoulder. Sam sat off to his other side, her fingers intertwined with his, running the pad of her thumb soothingly across the back his hand, facing him with concern in her eyes. They spoke softly amongst each other, murmuring questions, mumbling answers, whispering jokes. Danny's eyes remained gently shut during the entire expanse of the conversation.

Buster felt strangely uncomfortable as he sat not three feet away, propped up against his own wall, watching the exchange.

He felt as if he were intruding on something much too private. Something he was never meant to witness.

He realized that moments like this were routine for the three. A moment to gather themselves back up after every battle, every victory, every failure…Until this very moment as he sat watching the compassionate expressions sculpted into the familiar faces, he hadn't truly understood the implications of Danny's obscure revelation.

This crazy horrifying ride he'd just been on wasn't something that was going to end, not for them. This was their life. What they did.

The murmuring quieted down, Buster felt as if he should say something, make his presence known, but he couldn't find the strength to break the comforting spell around the boy. Buster watched him instead, the sad smile slipping off his face as he sleepily leaned closer into Tucker's side. His blue eyes lazily opened, wandering across the room, gaze lingering on Wes' sleeping form and then shifting slowly towards him.

Their eyes met, a small smile formed on his lips. Danny mirrored the expression, holding it for mere seconds before abruptly dropping it. His eyes flashed with remembrance as he hastily pushed himself away from the dark skinned boy. "Oh man, what time is it!?" he whisper yelled. Buster scrunched his brows, confused by the abrupt break of the calm atmosphere.

"Almost four in the morning, why?" Sam whispered is a soothing voice, probably attempting to calm him down.

Danny turned to stare at Buster, wide eyed. "Aw dude. Dash is probably having a cow by now, I told him to get help if you weren't back by midnight! Why didn't you go home?" he said, panicking.

Buster couldn't help but giggle at the comical look on the boy's face. "I called him, it was before midnight when we got back…but he'd already told his parents I was staying over at Tucker's so I didn't think it would make much sense if I suddenly appeared," he explained. It had taken a lot of convincing on his part, Dash had been close to hysterics when he'd called him, wanting to see him right away. He on the other hand, didn't want to face him with the white gauze secured across his neck.

Freezing mid-panic, Danny slowly deflated, "Oh…good." He slowly leaned back, resuming his spot against the other boy. His exhaustion catching up to him.

"Same story for me," Sam chimed in, a devious smile appearing on her face.

Tucker giggled, jostling Danny, "they think I'm at Sam's…we just have a rather large family of raccoons living in the attic."

A heavy sigh escaped Danny's lips, almost as if bothered by the lies his friends' were forced to tell, but he didn't say anything. "I should call Jazz, it's almost been three nights…she's gonna kill me for this," he mumbled instead.

"She can handle a few more hours. Just relax man," Tucker soothed, "you look like you haven't slept in weeks"

"Actually he slept well into the afternoon…slept most of the day before that too."

All four heads turned simultaneously, watching as the figure pushed himself up, panting slightly. Buster winced, those monsters had managed to really weaken the poor guy.

Buster eyes flitted over to Danny who had, once again, pushed himself away from Tucker. He crawled over, plopping down next to the red head, situating himself to face him. "Hey man," he greeted softly.

Wes looked up, meeting his eyes before sharply turning away, "Hey."

Buster could practically feel the nervous energy radiating off of Danny as he squirmed. "How you feeling?"

Shifting his eyes back to glare daggers, "like I was just kidnapped, beaten to a pulp, and used as a lab rat. So pretty much the best I've felt in years…how 'bout you?" Wes snapped, voice dripping with venom.

Danny flinched, biting his lip as he looked away. "Sorry for that…I…I really didn't think…I mean I thought I knew…But I didn't and I…Well I'm just…I'm sorry."

"I'm never gonna forgive you so quit your babbling. It's useless," the boy grumbled. Buster felt his heart break for Danny, he had gone through so much to get Wes out alive. But he couldn't really blame Wes for being upset.

Clearing his throat, Danny hugged his knees closer to his chest. "I understand, but—"

"I can't believe you did this to me, I knew you were a conniving little bastard…but this?"

He heard Sam bristle in anger, Tucker probably holding her back. Danny looked like a deer in headlights, his mouth gaping for a few moments before he finally blinked. "Wes, I didn't do it on purpose…I'll do anything I can—"

"How could you just tell him like that!? I've been working on him for months. Months! Do you know how long that is?"

The air in the room stilled. His sentence hanging awkwardly, no one really knowing what to do with it.

Finally, Danny recovered, the corner of his mouth curving up ever so slightly. "What?"

Wes seemed unaffected by everyone's confusion, ignoring Danny's question, "did you at least record his reaction?

A small giggle escaped Danny's lips, staring at Wes as if he had finally lost it. "What are you talking about?"

The irritable ginger threw his arms in the air dramatically, "Buster! How could you tell him without me?" Startled by his name being shrieked, he unconsciously jumped. The words slowly sunk in, his eyebrows raising in bewilderment as he realized what Wes was actually upset about.

Danny looked just as bewildered, if not a bit amused. "I…I didn't. I'm sorry. It was an accident?"

Huffing loudly, Wes crossed his arms and stubbornly turned away from the repenting boy. "I'm never talking to you ever again. Who else in this stupid town is ever going to believe me?!"

"Hopefully no one, that's kind of the whole idea with this entire secret identity thing," Sam cut in, unable to restrain herself any longer. Her anger was evident in her tone, not taking Wes' attitude towards Danny's identity lightly. Danny shot her a small look to which she scowled at but backed away.

"Are you sure you're okay dude? Didn't hit your head?" Tucker asked, a wide grin on his face, enjoying every bit of the argument. His hand, however, remained on Sam's shoulder in case she pounced. He didn't seem too worried though, Buster could understand why. Wes was not very convincing when it came to exposing Danny. He hadn't even understood what he had been saying to him half the time.

"Nah, he's always like this," Danny joked lightly, earning a growl in response.

Tucker shook his head, smile growing. "Right."

No one said much for a while after that. Danny and Wes remained in their positions, as if challenging the other to relent first. Sam seemed to have simmered down, crossing her legs as she leaned against the wall. Buster watched as her eyes slid shut, a soft snore already coming from Tucker. His own eyes were about to fall when he felt a vibration in his pocket.

Squinting his eyes, he stared down at the screen. Reading the message, he rolled his eyes. He really wasn't ready for this. "Uh, Danny?" he whispered, "Dash is outside…says he wants to talk…to both of us."

Danny glanced at him through his thick bangs, nodding slowly before getting up on his knees.

Tucker grabbed something from beside him, suddenly awake. "Well you better go," he said as he tossed a sweater over, winking at Danny with a devious smile. "Don't wanna keep your boyfriend waiting."

Pushing the thick garment off his face, Danny smirked before kicking him hard in the shin. "Jealous?"

A serious expression formed on Tucker's face, looking Danny straight in the eye, "very."

Shaking his head, Danny grabbed Buster's shoulders, turned them both intangible and sunk through the floor. Landing right behind the front door, with a soft thud, Danny flashed him a reassuring smile and unlocked the door. Reluctantly, with his eyes shut tight, he stepped out, breathing in the fresh after-rain air. It felt nice after the hours stuffed up in the attic, strangely calming.

Deciding he was being childish, Buster pried his eyes open and looked out across the driveway. The blond was pacing, his hands stuck deep into his pockets. Car nowhere in sight. He had walked. Taking a closer look, he noticed the boy had merely thrown his normal clothes haphazardly on top of his pajamas. His aunt and uncle would freak if they woke up and noticed him gone. Letting out a deep sigh, "Dash?"

He froze, jerked his head up and locked eyes. Buster felt terrible, Dash's eyes were red. Although he knew the jock would never admit it, it was obvious, he'd been crying. His gut clenched as he walked forward, a sheepish smile on his face.

"Buster," Dash breathed in relief before pulling him into a bone crushing hug. Pushing away, he lightly ran his finger over the slash across his cheek, frowning as Buster winced in response. The jock promptly fell onto his knees, grabbed Buster's face and began inspecting, taking note of the light bruising on his jaw before his eyes landed on his throat. Buster could feel him tense, could see the anger flare. "What the hell happened?" he growled, his glare landing on Danny, acknowledging his presence for the first time.

Before Danny could take all the blame and begin apologizing, Buster spoke up. "Nothing, it isn't deep at all. Really Dash, I could probably take this off right now."

Dash's glare only darkened upon hearing Buster's pitiful protest. Not tearing his eyes from the boy behind them, "but how did it happen?" he gritted.

Feeling extremely nervous, Buster fidgeted, shifting his weight anxiously, "Uhh…" He didn't want to tell him. He would only blame himself for letting him go in the first place. And frankly, he just wanted to forget.

Being held with a knife to the throat by the same guy who might have directly murdered his mother was never on the list of thing he wanted to do. He didn't need yet another image haunting his nightmares.

"Just a misfortunate accident with one of our weapons," Danny lied effortlessly. A real lie. Not a half-truth this time, he noted. He glanced subtly at him from the corner of his eye, searching his face for any sign of the fib, but turned up empty. Whether he liked it or not, he couldn't see passed his façade. He supposed he never would.

Dash rose to his feet, pushed passed him and got into Danny's face, fisting a large chunk of his shirt. "You gave him weapons!?" he shrieked, a vein bulging in his neck. Buster flinched, hoping they wouldn't wake anyone. If Tucker's parents saw them, it was not going to be pretty.

"Dash, back off. I'm fine," he tried, pulling him back by the elbow. Dash turned, his heated glare boring holes into his forehead for a split second before his gaze softened to one of pure concern.

Dropping his grip on Danny, "oh man, you could have died," he whispered, gripping Buster's upper arms tightly as if he would disappear without a moment's notice. Buster offered him a small smile, he hated that he put him through this. He, off all people, should know what it felt like.

"I didn't," he choked, suddenly feeling the surge of emotion from the whole ordeal catch up to him, "I'm right here." The tears threatened to flow, but he was so tired of that. He stubbornly pushed them back, looking down at his feet. He just wanted this to be over already.

Noticing the moisture in his eyes, Dash pulled him into another hug, ruffling his hair gently. "You're such an idiot Fenturd," he muttered.

"I didn't give him anything I didn't think he could handle. It wasn't anything you haven't used yourself before, Dash," Danny reasoned coolly. Buster opened his eyes, searching Danny's calm face before landing on his fingers wringing the hem of his shirt.

Danny didn't believe a single word that came out of his own mouth, he realized. He blamed himself. Buster restrained himself from letting out an irritated sigh, he wasn't a baby.

"But still, none of us ended up with a slashed throat," Dash continued to argue, the heat of his anger never wavering.

"Stop exaggerating, it's only a shallow cut," he mumbled, crossing his arms. Suddenly feeling embarrassed.

Dash looked at him for a second. He closed his eyes, visibly struggling to push his anger down, "I'm glad you're okay, really," he started with a long sigh, "but I'm probably never going to let you out of my sight again. Just a heads up." He smirked slightly at that, eliciting a small laugh from Buster.

"Great," he muttered with a roll of his eyes. Dash patted him affectionately on the back, smiling down at him, looking more relieved than anything.

After standing awkwardly for a few moments longer, sensing the unresolved argument still hanging in the air, Dash cleared his throat. "Hey, um…can I talk to Fentoad for a bit? Alone?"

Biting his lip, Buster looked towards Danny who merely shrugged. He wasn't keen on leaving him alone with Dash when he was so close to chewing him out, but Danny didn't seem to mind. Awkwardly stepping back, he scratched his head, "Uh sure…I'll, um, wait on the steps."

* * *

Buster's echoing footsteps filled the silent air around them as Dash pinned him under heated glare. When they finally ceased, only the soft patter of rain drops falling from the gutter remained. Danny stood before him, staring right back, waiting for another yelling match.

He just wanted to collapse into a boneless heap and sleep, the past few hours had taken a lot out of him. Physically and emotionally. But he owed this guy an explanation. Even if he really didn't want to give one.

In an instance, the seething boy was gone, replaced by one with a look of apprehension. Danny raised his brow curiously as he watched the emotions flicker across Dash's face. Letting out a shaky breath, his shoulder's slumping in defeat, "do you think he's going to be okay?" Dash stammered.

Frowning as the image of the red trail dripping down Buster's pale flesh flashed before his eyes, Danny rubbed the back of his neck, "yeah Dash, it wasn't that bad of a cut. Trust me."

"Not the cut, doofus," Dash grumbled, shoving him lightly while rolling his eyes. Looking over Danny's shoulder, his brows lowered in sympathy, "his mom."

"Oh," Danny whispered, caught a little off guard. Following Dash's gaze, Danny's frown deepened.

Taking in the image of Buster, hunched over, resting his head on his knees, a small pang traveled across his body. He knew that broken child sitting there wasn't truly 'Buster.' Danny had never really met him. But he caught glimpses, here and there.

That boy, with the contagious laughter, the raw wonder, unhindered curiosity and complete trust in the world was someone worth fighting for.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, "eventually."

Dash poked a meaty finger into his ribs, not happy with the vague response. "What's that mean?"

Danny swatted the hand away with an annoyed scowl as it was pressing against a particularly nasty bruise, "you can't expect him to be okay Dash. I don't think he'll ever _really_ recover, who would? But he's strong, he'll make it through."

Dash nodded slowly, considering Danny's words, surprisingly taking him seriously. Danny watched him, the defeated look was not something commonly seen on Dash Baxter. Although Danny had witnessed it before, he still found it odd. He looked like a kicked puppy.

"I just wish there was something I could do, you know?"

A tight knot of powerlessness wound itself up inside his gut, a feeling he'd become much too accustomed with. Kicking invisible rocks on the sidewalk, Danny nodded, "Yeah, I know."

He seemed to accept that, giving him a small but meaningful glance before gazing off into space. A strange sense of mutual understanding passed between them.

After a moment of silent contemplation, something flashed in Dash's eyes, as if he remembered something. The vulnerability vanished, thick brows knitted together, anger poured through his pores.

The Dash he knew was back.

Sharply gouging his glare back into Danny's very being, "don't think you're off the hook, Fen-twerp," he grumbled, taking a threatening step forward.

A little disoriented by the abrupt switch, Danny unconsciously took a step back, out of mere habit. "Hm?"

"What you did today was stupid, I don't know why I even agreed. Your idiot fumes were probably affecting me," he chastised. Except, the regular heat in the statement wasn't really there. His tone laced with something deeper. More raw.

Regardless, Danny held up his arms in defense. "Believe me, I know. But I wouldn't have done it if I didn't think it would help him, alright? You have to take my word for it, he needed closure."

Not wavering his half-hearted glare, "yeah, whatever."

"We saved a lot of people today, Phantom couldn't have done it without him. I couldn't have done it without him," he confessed. Looking down at his arms, he noticed the forgotten piece of clothing. Smiling slightly he offered Dash back his hoodie, "Or without you, so, um…Thank you." When Dash made no attempt to reclaim the offered item, Danny sighed, blowing stray hairs out of his eyes. "I really am sorry, Dash."

Huffing, Dash snatched the garment, not meeting his eyes. "You better be, you put me through a lot of grief these past few days Fen-tuns'o'fun." His voice sounded small, almost hurt.

Scoffing, "it hasn't even been a whole day," Danny protested, albeit, weakly. Thrown in for a loop by the puzzling undertones.

"The whole town thinks you're dead, you twerp," Dash pointed out, heated but moist eyes tearing into his resolve.

Shrinking into himself with a bout of guilt, Danny looked away, "oh that…"

"Yeah, that," the jock spat, stepping closer, scrunching Danny's shirt into his fist. "If you ever pull a stunt like that again," he gritted, pulling him so that they were standing nose to nose, "I will find you… and kill you myself."

Danny blinked. He didn't know what to make of that. For the first time in years, Dash actually looked threatening. Not daring to move, he gulped slowly, taking his time. "Um…sorry?" he squeaked, unsure of an adequate response.

Dash stared at him, or into him, intensely, for what felt like an eternity before finally letting him go with a small surprised yelp on Danny's part. Backing up, looking over towards Buster, Dash closed his eyes, turned on his heal and began to slowly walk away. He paused, feeling Danny's confused gaze on his back. Without turning back, "I'm expecting you in school tomorrow for your scheduled wailing, don't be late."

Taking his own step back, slipping him hands into his pockets, Danny let a small smile stretch across his face. "I wouldn't dream of it."


	22. Chapter 22: No Such Thing as a Superhero

Lazily pushing forward a beautifully polished horse across the wooden board, Danny smirked, "king me."

A satisfying screech sounded from across the bed, "oh for the love of—! For the last time. We. Are. Play-ing. Chess!" Wes glowered at him, practically pulling strands of red hair out of his scalp.

Danny giggled, looked up through his bangs, his head resting in the palm of his hands, "I know."

Crossing his arms Wes turned his head away, pressing it against Danny's headboard, "I don't know why I'm even talking to you."

Danny shrugged, "because, I'm a blast," he reasoned nonchalantly, "and, you're stuck here."

"Don't remind me," a barely audible grumble responded. Danny smiled, swiping his hand across the bed, he swatted the expensive board away, landing with a resounding thud. The little pieces scattered across the floor, inciting their own small ruckus. He mentally thanked his lucky stars that Vlad hadn't gone out and bought him the glass set, he didn't have the patience to keep such things in one piece.

"So, board games are a bust then?" he asked after a few moments of silence.

Wes glared back at him. He'd been forbidden from spending time on any electronics on account of a mild concussion and Danny had been trying to keep him entertained. "If you followed the rules, then maybe they'd actually be fun."

Shrugging once again, Danny flopped onto his back and gently floated atop thin air. "Eh, I'm not one to stick with the rules."

He could practically hear the eyes roll in the ginger's head. "I'm well aware."

Danny peered over at his guest, holding back a chuckle. Wes was in a particularly sour mood, having been forced to spend his entire day at Fenton-Works. He had reminded him, promptly, at every hour, that he would have rather gone to school.

His father wasn't scheduled to be home for a few more days, he was pretty hard to reach at the time. And, well, the GIW hadn't left his house in a very _livable_ state. It would take at least a week, and that was with Vlad's influence. It was safe to say that, for the first time in Danny's life, he was actually thankful he knew the man.

Letting his eyes wander, he landed on the newspapers thrown across his desk. A grin spread across his face, the man had really come through. Floating over, he grabbed one from the top of the pile, eyes scanning the extensive exposé. It was a small victory, people still lost their lives, but he'd take what he can get. They wouldn't be hurting anyone else.

Setting the paper down, he floated lazily around the room, enjoying being back under his own personal makeshift night sky. Wes began flipping through one of his comics he had lying around. They shared a companionable calm, it was a far better option then the silly arguments the two fell into every time Danny attempted a conversation.

Abruptly, Danny jolted up and dropped his altitude, alarming Wes in the process. Landing rather ungracefully onto the floor, Danny scrambled up and situated himself into his desk chair. Trying hard to seem inconspicuous, he ignored the weird look Wes was shooting him. A few seconds ticked by. Nothing happened.

Wes groaned, "Fenton, wha—"

Just as he was surely about to question Danny's sanity, the door knob turned and in walked Maddie. Concern laced in her eyes.

"Hi Sweetie, are you boys alright?" She asked pleasantly, her signature smile across her face. Danny could see right through it.

"Everything's great mom," Danny replied, flashing her a genuine grin. She smiled back, a bit of warmth returning to her eyes as she gazed at her son. Danny squirmed under the look that somehow switched from aiming at him to going through him without him noticing. It was creepy and filled him with an uncomfortable amount of guilt. She seemed to shake herself out of her thoughts, giving him one last pensive stare before turning to their guest.

"Wes, honey, I spoke to your Father," Maddie started, catching Wes' attention. "He was rather alarmed to hear about your injuries and the impromptu renovation but I assured him he did not have to cut his work short. He'll be here as soon as he can, in the meantime, you can continue staying here as long as you like."

Danny watched as Wes bit his tongue, holding back his automatic response of having to be paid to stay here a minute longer. Instead, the boy swallowed, "Um, Thank you Mrs. Fenton. You really don't have to do this."

"Nonsense, any friend of Danny's is welcome in our home," she cooed, swatting away any protest. Absently looking around the room, she began picking stuff up off the ground. "I'm a parent dear, I couldn't let you wander with those injuries," she insisted.

Her eyes landed on the chess board, bending down to pick it up she looked over and raised a brow towards her son. Danny gave her a sheepish grin before getting up to help her clean up his mess.

Shaking her head fondly, she scooped up various pieces and placed them atop his desk. Once they were done, standing side-by-side, she turned towards him. Looked him up and down, taking in every inch of him. Her eyes suddenly filled with tears, a watery smile on her lips.

"Mom?"

With a shuddering breath, Maddie tentatively reached up and brushed his hair out of his eyes, staring into the crystal blue. Just like she used to do when he was younger. A faraway look came over her as she gently caressed his cheek, "my baby," she whispered inaudibly and pulled him close. Embracing him as if he were to disappear upon a moment's notice.

"Hey, It's alright mom, I'm fine," he tried consoling her, caught a little off guard. They had already gotten through the hugs and kisses when he'd first showed up this morning and wasn't prepared for more. He didn't really know what else he could say.

She nodded, pulling away, "I know sweetie," she mumbled, wiping away a stray tear. "I'm sorry, I'm a mess. Did you boys want any snacks? I made cookies."

Fixing her under a concerned look, Danny frowned. He hated doing this to her. One of these days, he'd tell her. She'd know why. She wouldn't have to wonder or fear that he'd vanish again. And she'd be proud.

It just wasn't the day.

"No mom, I'm good. I was gonna go to bed soon anyway," he fibbed instead. Wes nodded along with him. Maddie folded her arms around her torso, bit her lip, wanting to say more. Not wanting to leave his room.

With a dejected sigh, "alright, have a good night boys. I'll see you in the morning. We'll decide about going to school then."

"Sounds good," they both chimed. She flashed them one last careful smile before slipping out as silently as she'd come in.

He remained frozen, watching the closed door, listening for her footsteps long after they fell beyond human hearing range. She was going down to the lab, she'd probably be there all night. With a small sigh, he slumped over onto his bed.

"Watch it," Wes grumbled, pulling his feet out from under him.

"Sorry," he mumbled, a frown on his face, not bothering to move. Wes let out a heavy annoyed sigh and went back to his comic, leaving Danny to his thoughts.

"Fenton?...Hey, Fenton. Wake up."

Blinking slowly, Danny looked up blearily. Fiery hair invaded his vision. When had Jazz come home? Screwing his eyes shut, he scrunched his brows in confusion. He couldn't even remember falling asleep. "Jazz?"

"Not quite," a distinctly male voice drawled. Definitely not Jazz. Not Tucker either. His survival senses immediately kicked in, he pushed himself up jerkily and looked around in alarm.

He was in his own room. No sign of danger. He had fallen asleep at the foot of his bed.

Sheepishly, he rubbed the back of his neck as he met Wes' less than amused expression. "Uh, I knew that."

"Sure," the boy mumbled while rolling his eyes. He watched Danny stand and stretch, waiting for him to collect himself before inching towards the edge of the bed, his long legs dangling over. "So, uh, where do I sleep?" he asked, a bit awkwardly, "cause I'm _not_ sleeping in the same bed with you."

Dropping his arms from their position over his head, Danny peered towards him with a small smirk, mirth twinkling in his eyes. "Why not?"

Unfazed by the mock hurt tone in Danny's voice, "because, you're a creep."

Chuckling, he headed towards his closet and pulled out his favourite pair of pink pajamas along with some cotton pants and an old raven's t-shirt that was always too long on him. Tossing the T-shirt and pants over to Wes, "you can take the bed, I have a sleeping bag for when Tuck comes over."

"Fine with me," he heard the boy mumble as he left to brush his teeth.

Minutes later found the pair of them settled into their respective beds, however, all remnants of prior sleepiness somehow evaded his grasp. Danny lay prone on his back, his hands folded behind his head. He could tell by Wes's breathing pattern that he too was still awake. Turning so that he was on his side facing his temporary roommate, he smiled widely. "This has got to be some kind of milestone in our friendship," he commented, causing Wes to open his eyes to glare. "Four slumber parties in a row? That's a new record."

He couldn't quite explain it, but messing with this guy was a whole new level of fun. He watched as facial features twisted into and incredulous glower and barely held back his giggle.

"If you call what we've gone through for the past few nights a 'party,' you're more psychotic than I thought."

Holding his gaze, Danny's grin widened, reaching his eyes. "Didn't deny we were friends, so I'll take that as a victory."

With a loud huff, Wes flipped over onto his other side, facing away from him. He couldn't stand that obnoxious grin. "As if I'd ever be friends with a ticking time bomb, I'm not suicidal."

Left staring at the boy's turned back, the grin slowly slipped off his face. A weird sinking feeling moved though his gut and settled, unwelcomed, in the pit of his stomach. Laying back flat onto his back, he tried to swallow away the unnerving emotions. He stayed quiet, his eyes glued to the ceiling. Listening to the kitchen clock tick on. However, the noise wasn't nearly loud enough to drown out Wes' words ringing deafeningly in his head.

"How are you so sure?"

His question hung in the air, and for a moment, Danny thought Wes had actually fallen asleep, despite the irregular breathing. Then, he heard the ruffling of sheets and looked up to see a slightly confused looking boy sitting up in his bed, "about what?"

"Me," he elaborated softly, "that I'm somehow the bad guy?"

Wes stared at him, judging the odd crack in his voice. "Never said you were the bad guy."

He scoffed, shooting the ginger his own eye roll, "a bomb is pretty bad if you ask me." He didn't even know why he was bothering, it was hopeless. He'd always known Wes didn't think much of him, so why should he care now?

"Nah, not _always_ bad… but definitely dangerous. Bound to erupt and destroy anything in its wake," Wes explained. It was something the boy often told him. He was dangerous. Danny knew that, god did he know that, but Wes _didn't_. Not really.

All he'd ever tried to do was protect the town, although it didn't always work out that way, he'd never done anything to warrant such a strong belief. Not yet anyway.

More so reminding himself of the fact than convincing Wes, "I'm not evil. Being a ghost doesn't make you evil." The clock ticked on, swallowing the raw, pleading sound of his voice. Scattering it through the air in its insignificance to the sounds of the world around him.

Drawing his knees up to his chest, Wes lay the side of his head atop of them and surveyed him. His eyes strangely softened, "I _know_ , Danny," he whispered.

Taken aback, Danny gaped at him, sharing a silent moment. His tone had held such sincerity, it was disconcerting. But impossible not to believe.

"But, you're no saint," Wes continued once the odd moment passed, "It would be naïve, and a little unfair, to believe someone with as much power as you will always do the right thing. No one's perfect, there's no such thing as a super hero."

The apprehension slowly dissipated, replaced by a feeling he couldn't explain. The tension in his muscles loosened, the knot in his stomach tightened, a warmth spread throughout his chest, his mouth ran dry, the left corner of his lip threatened to curl up. He was left overwhelmed yet paradoxically calm.

Because, somehow, this boy understood.

He could see it in his eyes. A depth he would have never anticipated from his own friends and family, let alone from someone who barely knew him.

"One of these days, that secret of yours is going to blow up in your face and leave a mess you can't fix."

Letting out a deep sigh, Danny looked away and closed his eyes. Wes had always been smarter than anyone gave him credit for. He wondered if a strong sense of intuition counted as a superpower all on its own.

"And exposing me is somehow going to prevent that?"

Sensing that they were no longer on shaky ground, Wes snorted, "no, not at all." Laying back down, he produced a long screeching yawn, "I'm doing this for purely selfish reasons."

The smile finally found its way back onto Danny's face, a welcoming warmth growing from his icy core, "Thanks."

"For what?" Wes mumbled, sleepiness present in his heavy voice.

Shrugging the best he could, despite Wes' eyes being shut, "not believing in me. It's nice," Danny admitted softly, "less pressure."

Wes seemed to contemplate whether or not to accept the appreciation. Finally letting a small chuckle out, with a fond smile that he would never admit to, "whatever, dork."

The grin never left, only grew warmer. Whether Wes liked it or not, he was a great friend. He kept him grounded in reality. Made him feel ironically more human than he felt in years.

Lost in thought, Danny idly counted the seconds as they ticked by. Curious, he lifted his head to glance back at the neon digital display on his bedside table. Almost a quarter to one in the morning. Debating with himself for a moment, he pushed away the covers. He wasn't falling asleep any time soon anyway. "Hey, I'm gonna slip out for a bit. Mom's probably gonna come by at some point, I'll try to be back by then, but do you think you can hold down the fort?"

A low groan sounded before a pillow was placed over Wes' ear. "Yeah, yeah. I'll just tell her you jumped out the window. It'll keep her busy for a while, I'm sure."

Shaking his head, "you're hilarious," Danny drawled as he summoned the raw energy waiting just beneath the surface. Wes pulled the edge of the pillow over his eyes in response to the bright flash.

Lifting up, he dived, head first out the window, relishing the cool wind as it embraced him. Pausing for a second, Danny floated there and just took a moment to feel alive. A pleasant fuzz curled up in his brain. Turning around, he poked his head pack through and smirked at the amusing form of his gangly friend beneath his pillows, "G'night."

"Night."

* * *

Curling his fingers through the smooth dry layer of sand, he grabbed a fistful before watching the gold grains escape their temporary prison. Repeating the motion, he let his mind wander, watching as he gradually uncovered the moist layers underneath. He could feel the moisture seep up and chill his knees through his jeans, but he paid no mind. It felt kind of nice. Grounding.

He wasn't expecting company tonight, it wasn't unwelcome, but he knew not to anticipate it. Nonetheless, he kept alert, just on the off chance that Phantom sought refuge in their meetings as much as he did. For that reason, and that reason alone, he wasn't at all surprised when he felt the subtle drop of temperature and caught the soft whoosh of air from behind him.

A small smile formed on his lips but he didn't bother to turn around, waiting instead for the ghost to make his presence known. He heard the sound of light footsteps approaching and willed himself not to tense up as they grew louder. It was only Phantom. He trusted the guy with his life, they were friends. There was no reason to be anxious.

The steps stopped, there was a stumbling sound, a solid bump and a muffled wince before a body settled into the sand a few feet in front of him. Smirking at the tell-tale clumsy sounds, Buster shook his head. Dropping the last of his current fistful, he glanced up to greet his white-haired companion.

However, a boy with sleep tousled raven hair clad in worn out pink pajamas and a warm toothy grin sat in front of him instead.

"Hey dude, how'd your day go?" Danny asked casually, leaning onto the palm of his hand as he drew circles in the sand with the other. Completely comfortable in the situation.

Buster blinked, greatly put off by his presence. These late night meetings had always been their secret. His and Phantom's. He hadn't even told Arthur.

Now, watching Danny sitting there in Phantom's place, he realized it had never been much of a secret after all. Danny had always known about the sleepless nights. He'd always known the reason behind the stifled yawns and the dark bags, but had been nice enough to never point it out in front of the others. Every little piece of his heart that he had poured out to Phantom, It was always Danny on the receiving end.

Noting the lack of response and the slight apprehensive stare, Danny chuckled nervously, "So showing up as human was a bad idea, huh?"

"No. Just surprising," Buster stumbled, blushing when he realized how long he had left the boy hanging. "Kind of weird, but not bad."

It had not even been a week ago that he found this boy's bleeding body a few feet from where they sat. 'Weird,' was underselling it. It was downright unsettling. He had thought he had come into terms with the situation yesterday after they risked their lives together. But, looking at the boy now, he could almost convince himself that he had imagined the whole ordeal. There was not a bullet wound in sight. His weight rested casually on his wounded knee as if it had never been gushing blood. The bruises that littered his face had vanished without a trace. Weird didn't even come close to describing it.

Scratching the back of his head awkwardly, "So, how'd your parents react?" He asked, in an attempt to fall back into a normal conversation. If that, at this point, was even possible.

Danny merely shrugged, completely ignoring the awkward tension. "As expected I guess, they held on and wouldn't let me go. Literally. For at least two hours. There were a lot of tears and demands for an explanation…"

Even though he knew since the whole gang had left Tucker's attic that morning that the Fenton parents would no longer be suffering, actually hearing about it lifted a whole new weight off his shoulder. "What'd you tell 'em?"

"…You know, fed them some story. Made the GIW look like complete pigs for chasing and forcing an innocent kid into hiding and practically blowing up Wes' house in the process. Nothing too far off."

There it was again. The half-truths, they were really getting on his nerves. "I guess you're pretty used to that now, huh? The lying?" He didn't mean for it to come out so harsh, but he didn't have a very strong hold over his emotions at the moment.

"Uh…yeah. I guess it comes with the territory. You gain one thing, you lose the other." unfortunately that meant his sense of honesty and loyalty towards his parents.

Scrunching his brows, Buster withheld the long sigh. It wasn't like Buster himself hadn't ever lied before. Heck, he lied all the time. He had lied to his aunt and uncle just this morning.

But he trusted Phantom. He had thought they had a mutual understanding of sorts. He'd only ever told the ghost the truth, nothing more and nothing less. And in return, Buster had believed every little thing that came out Phantom's mouth, would've sworn by it. But now, he didn't know what to believe.

Danny frowned, looked over and noticed a plastic shovel and pail that had probably been abandoned by some kindergarteners a long time ago. Picking it up, he began filling the scratched red pail with moist sand. "You have to believe I tried my best to never lie to you Buster," he stated once he flipped the pail over to reveal a perfect cylindrical shape, looking at him straight in the eye.

Buster couldn't stand that look. The blue eyes were far worse than the green. The innocent conviction had fooled him too many times in the past. He glanced away, opting to watch the swing casually sway in the wind. He listened as Danny sighed and began filling the pail once more.

He was building a sand castle. Such a childish, _normal_ thing to do. Something that he would have labeled as 'typical Danny' just a month ago. It was kind of funny, he would've laughed and joined in or, at least, offered a teasing comment. But, now it was just strange. He couldn't comprehend that the boy capable of taking on dozens of grown men on his own was the same one plopped in front of him, building a damn sand castle.

He stayed quiet, Danny didn't seem to mind. He carried on scraping, scooping and dumping. His actions were strangely methodical yet erratic all at the same time.

"You're alive," Buster stated quietly. It wasn't a question, just a simple observation. A deduction… an acceptance. _Relief_.

Danny flinched, unmistakable pain flashed in his eyes before he set the pail down, biting his lip as he nodded, "…yeah." His voice cracked slightly. Buster could tell he had anticipated this topic, knew the questions were coming.

Feeling uncomfortable, Buster took the time to examine the structure that Danny had built between them. It was amazing, much more detailed than anything he'd ever built. Of course, it was rather small, but beautiful nonetheless.

"You're somehow a mutant hybrid cross between ghost and human." He didn't know for sure, but it was all he could come up with after hearing Danny's argument with the scientist. It had been a journey to even entertain the idea that the ghostly hero was not dead. Even if he desperately wanted to believe it. The more he thought about it though, the more it made sense.

"Yeah," Danny chuckled nervously, "I prefer 'half-ghost' though. Less gross sounding." He plastered a smile on his face, trying to use humor to skirt around an obviously touchy subject.

However, Buster couldn't stop himself. Danny had promised him answers. "They were trying to make more of you."

Nodding his head, "I don't know where they got the idea…they weren't the ones who created me," he explained in a soft whisper. "Half-ghosts are supposed to be a secret. We aren't supposed to be possible."

He decided to ignore Danny's use of plural, opting to notice the self-deprecating tone instead. Raising his eyebrows in slight confusion, he eyed Danny carefully.

He knew they couldn't have been the ones who created him, the scientist wouldn't have been so freaked out by Danny's powers if they had. But…who had created him? How was he even 'created'?

He didn't think he should ask, it sounded too insensitive. Dehumanizing.

He'd read enough comic books and watched one too many movies to have a couple of crazy ideas of his own.

Since Buster didn't respond, too lost in thought, Danny shifted his attention away once again. He began strengthening the walls of his castle, smoothening them out delicately. Buster's eyes followed his movements.

Unable to stop himself, he scooted forward and began helping him. If only to give himself something to do other than think.

He was insanely curious and he knew Danny knew exactly what Buster wanted to know. He was _sure_ Danny wasn't born this way, his parents would be aware of their son's ghostly abilities otherwise… But Danny kept his mouth sealed tight. Only talking when spoken to.

His silence was unnerving. Phantom was usually the one who kept the conversation going.

The sound of hands against sand, mixed with the howling and yipping of a few dogs was all that occupied the air until the castle's structure was completely reinforced. Shifting back, he watched as Danny twirled a stick between his fingers, not meeting Buster's gaze.

His brain hurt. He couldn't take this.

"That night," Buster began, his voice already hoarse from just the thought, "when we found her…" Danny looked up, his face carefully blank, "you told me some stuff about death…you made it sound like it was from experience."

The ghost's wise words spoken that fateful night had been running through his mind from the moment he realized this boy still had a beating heart. It shook him from his core that those consoling words might have been mere meaningless sounds. Hallow and empty.

Swallowing painfully, "…I…" Danny croaked, trailing off, finding no words, having no retaliation to the not-so-subtle accusation thrown his way.

They stared at each other, Danny appearing oddly defeated.

Looking down, Danny bit his lip, contemplating something as he dug the stick deep into the ground and began carving a wide moat.

Buster felt a vice grip on his heart. He was still keeping secrets. It was a given, everyone had a right to their own secrets. But there was an explanation hidden behind those eyes.

If Danny would just _tell_ him…he would accept that the boy had lied to protect himself. He could take the truth. He just wanted the truth for once.

Yet, Danny had done so much for him. He had risked everything to avenge a women he didn't even know. He didn't owe Buster anything. Didn't really have to explain.

But they were supposed to be friends.

Phantom was one of his best friends, Danny hadn't been far behind.

When had his life ever gotten so complicated that he considered a ghost-human hybrid as not one, but two of his best friends?

He wanted to trust him again. To believe he wasn't lying _now_. Sure, he had lied to him that night, he could come to terms with that. He could leave it in the past. Danny had done it to console him, to make him feel better.

But what was the point if none of what he said we real?

What if his mom's spirit hadn't moved on? What if she was waiting for him?

He wanted to slap himself across the face.

His twisting thoughts were going to award him a one way trip to the mental hospital.

It was all just too difficult. His life, from the moment he returned home from that blasted ski trip, had been nothing more than empty promises. Half-truths sugar-coating the bitter reality. False hope…

Amity Park was his fresh start. His life here wasn't supposed to end up that way too.

"I just keep thinking that once this is all over, my life will finally be back to normal," he breathed quietly, "I'll be back to my old happy and carefree self." Danny looked up, his hand halting the incessant gorging around the castle.

"But it doesn't work that way, does it?… they'll find her body soon." he shuddered at the thought, noticing Danny wince in sympathy. "It's just a matter of time till they identify her and call my dad. There'll be a funeral. An actual one with a casket. Except a closed casket and not opened like she always wanted," a small tear rolled down his cheek but he didn't bother wiping it away, much too tired to care. "Then, it will all be real. And nothing will ever be the same."

Danny inhaled deeply, raking his hand through thick hair. "I can't wrap my mind around her being gone," Buster whispered, "She really was my whole world." He didn't offer any words of comfort, merely placing a gentle hand on Buster's knee and squeezing slightly. Buster was strangely grateful for his silence.

"I'm only fourteen, how am I going to survive without her?" The air around them dropped a couple of degrees. He subconsciously drew in closer to himself and away from Danny. "I didn't realize how much I actually depended on her…We had so many made up holidays…but she was the one who remembered them. I'm terrible with dates. It's pointless now anyway." He was rambling now, but he couldn't care less.

"Everything was not supposed to end up this much of a mess. I was supposed to go to high school with Arthur and the others. Mom was supposed to be there at my graduation. She was going to teach me how to drive, even though it terrified her. She probably would have made me wear a bunch of protective padding, but she would have still taught me. She was supposed to take me on that alien-hunting road trip I bugged her about…" he choked back a sob, "She was supposed to plan my wedding! She was supposed to help me raise the grandchildren she always wanted. I was supposed to watch her grow old and make fun of her bad knees and gray hair….how can I even think about moving on? How can I live without her?"

Angry tears began to flow freely from his eyes. He hadn't seen that outburst coming, but now that the words were out he couldn't stop the pain. Nothing would ever be okay. His life was over the moment those monsters took his mom away from him. There were many more ways of ending one's life than murder.

Danny had him fixed under an intense look, at a point of almost looking through him. Something flickered in his eyes and his resolve crumbled. With a soft sigh he gently picked up a weathered brown leaf that had been wedged into the crack of the sandbox frame. Holding it between his fingers he stared at it as it slowly became encased in a thin layer of shimmering crystal.

Buster wiped at his eyes, sniffling as he watched Danny place the frosted leaf at the castle's door, bridging a fragile path over the deep moat.

"When I was fourteen, I died."

Even the dogs stopped barking. Buster's heart stopped. His throat constricting. The silence was deafening.

No.

He wanted the truth…but now, he didn't think he could handle it.

Then Danny smiled, a soft apologetic look and shook his head slightly, "It wasn't for long, it may have been a few seconds or a couple minutes."

His heart beat slowly picked back up as he struggled to comprehend the statement, eyes landing on Danny's, only now noticing as they glowed a lighter shade of blue. "Sam and Tuck were too afraid to check for a pulse at first. They still think I was only unconscious, but being electrocuted at such a high voltage as I was…it shouldn't have been humanly possible for me to live." But he did live. He came back to life. Buster trembled, grasping at the unspoken words.

"I never told anyone what really happened that day," he whispered, swirling flecks of ice around his fingers. Pointing towards the main tower, a crystal roof appearing atop it. "Except you."

"I could have stayed, could had relented and moved on. I could feel it. But there was something holding me back, maybe it was the ectoplasm infusing into my body or just my fear of the unknown. I never figured it out. But I woke up, alive and breathing. And then…my life fell apart." He said it so casually, Buster almost missed that last part of the statement.

His mind buzzed, aware that Danny had just told him part of Phantom's origin story. Albeit, marginal, enough for him to understand. He had actually died.

"I couldn't look at myself in the mirror for the longest time, jumping at every mention or reminder of what had become of me. I just wanted it to go away. I _hated_ it… I had always been afraid of ghosts."

Green light joined the crystal swirls at Danny's fingertips as he carefully grazed the small openings they had poked through the sandy walls, creating mosaic-like glass windows.

"Sam and Tucker thought it was kind of cool. They were convinced it was a good thing…I mean, who else could say that their best friend had super powers, right?" he cracked a smile, but the pain in his eyes sucked the humor out of his tone. "But I hated it. I wasn't Danny Fenton anymore and I could never really be him again. I wasn't even human."

"But now, you're Phantom. A hero, everyone loves you," he tried. Hating how broken he looked. Danny had done so much for him, for the town. He had always seemed to like his powers…

Danny chuckled, continuing to fill the windows with make-shift glass. "I was supposed to go through high school with my biggest worries being asking out Paulina, staying away from Dash and studying for finals without crashing from a massive caffeine high. I was supposed to keep up the Fenton name and get straight As, I was supposed to be an Astronaut. But I couldn't do any of that, not when I was the only one who could do something about the ghosts. Not when people could die because I'd rather battle acne." His tone held no malice, there was no accusation, just a soft but deep sadness.

"You've always seemed so happy."

"I didn't say I wasn't happy," he countered, confusing Buster. The aged sadness in his voice was still there, yet Buster caught something else. Acceptance.

"The ghosts are a great outlet for my frustration. And, flying is more than a little amazing…" His eyes lit up a subtle green, a small smile on his face as he unleashed a steady but small stream of liquid ectoplasm, filling the moat with its toxic color. He looked up to meet his eyes, giving a look that made him realize what Danny was trying to do. He wasn't giving him his sob story. He was trying to comfort him.

"I have my moments, but I'm not depressed. I'm thankful for what I have, I'd be stupid to take that for granted." He gazed down at his creation, smirking slightly as he proudly took in the beauty. It was truly something to marvel at. Something no one else but Danny had the power to create. Buster had seen his ice powers in action multiple times. He knew the kind of damage they were capable of. There was something astonishing about witnessing such power used in such a mundane fashion.

"Happiness isn't always getting what you wanted, it's about cherishing what you have." he stated solemnly, staring at him seriously before a slow grin cracked the expression, Buster mirroring it. Letting out a small giggle, "I know I sound like a cheesy inspirational poster right now, but it's true," he concurred, holding up his hand. "Sometimes life doesn't work out like you thought it would, it takes its own course. It's rarely ever fair… Take my word for that one," he sighed, giving him a pointed side look.

"Most days I hate my powers, I just want to be normal again…But whether I like it or not, they make me who I am. A stronger person." The bright ring of light, that he was slowly becoming accustomed to, quickly passed over the boy, relieving him of gravity's burden as he slowly gained distance from the ground. "And admittedly, they can be pretty cool." There was a genuine grin on his tanned features now as he made a show of flexing his powerful muscles. Despite Buster's melancholy mood, he couldn't help but to return it.

Danny flew up, looping a few times above him before coming down and gently swooping him into the air. The tension and despair disappeared for the moment as they shot above the tree tops. Nothing but the familiar chilly but pleasant feeling washing over him. After a few minutes of silent flight, Danny stopped and gently descended onto a roof. It took him a moment to realize it was the roof of Buster's own house.

Sitting side-by-side, feet dangling over the edge, they both watched the twinkling stars.

"You can go through life counting everything that went wrong, replaying the torment and cursing the universe," Danny stated softly, "you have every right to." He caught the longing look the ghost boy had in his eyes as he stared at the open night. "Or you can move past it," he straightened up, tearing his eyes away to give him a meaningful glance, "all it takes is a little change in perspective." Letting go of his ghost form, Danny smiled wistfully, swinging his bare feet in the cool air.

"I'm not saying anything will magically be okay…It takes time, and sometimes the wounds never heal. Even with super healing," he shrugged faintly, "but they get easier to bear."

Drawing his feet up, Danny swiveled around to face him, resting his chin on his knee. "I guess what I'm trying to say is, moving on isn't the same as forgetting or letting go…it's more like swerving and facing the new, inconvenient bend in the road. Adapting to it."

Buster nodded thoughtfully, looking off into the distance. "Finding a new normal?" he asked, a small crack in his voice.

"Finding a new normal," Danny agreed softly, a tiny smile reaching his eyes.

Despite the comfort the ghost's words brought him, he didn't really feel better. The pain was still as prominent as ever. But Danny was right.

There was nothing wrong with trying to move on.

Danny didn't say anything else, but made no attempt to take him inside, staying right by his side. Buster sighed and lay down on the rough shingled surface and closed his eyes, emotionally drained for the night.

Judging from the shifting that sounded a few moments later, Danny was now in a similar position beside him. He couldn't help but be reminded of the Christmas party they spent in an almost identical position all that time ago.

His friendship with Danny had changed so much since that night, it was almost unbelievable how much had happened since then.

How much Danny had actually done, how many times he had saved his life.

"Did I ever tell you about the time I was dubbed the town hero?" he asked quietly, a laugh in his voice from the memory.

Danny chuckled at the seemingly random question, "No…"

"It was a bit of an accident…the cat in the tree just wanted my ice cream," he laughed, "I was just in the right place at the right time."

Thoroughly intrigued, and rather amused, Danny snorted. "Still, pretty noble of you. I'm so proud."

"Yeah well, wait till you hear the rest. I was sort of freaked out from the sudden attention, I didn't really do anything heroic you know? That was until the fame got to my head…"

...THE END


End file.
